


Pain Will Always Come Back to Haunt You

by Kevy_Grayce



Series: Flashforward to Misery [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Intolerance, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Aunt May is the best, Canon-Typical Violence, Complete, Deviates From Canon, Everyone Loves Peter Parker, FUCK endgame, Father-Son Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, I Made My Best Friend Cry, I Made Myself Cry, Illusions, Irondad, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark Coparenting Peter Parker, Michelle is supportive and still weird, Minor Character Death, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, NOT STARKER - Freeform, Ned Leeds is The Guy in the Chair, Ned Leeds needs more love, Ned and Peter are the bestest friends, Night Terrors, Nightmares, No Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, No Spoilers, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter just wants to keep everyone safe and forgets about himself sometimes, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sensory Overload, Sleep Apnea, Sleep Paralysis, Slight Canon Divergence, Sorry Not Sorry, Tags will be added, Team Spidey, Texting, Thats a lot of tags, This might make you cry too?, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Vines, Whump, aunt may - Freeform, fuck infinity war, no ffh spoilers, she won't get hurt or die i swear, spiderson, vine references, written before ffh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2019-11-26 17:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 131,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18183587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kevy_Grayce/pseuds/Kevy_Grayce
Summary: “Mr. Stark? Is something, is something wrong? What are you doing here?”“Hop in, Underoos.” Peter hasn't heard the nickname in months. He slides into the seat next to Tony. “How’s school?”“It's good, Mr. Stark.”“Out with it, kid.”“Out with what?”“You’re a terrible liar. Your suit’s AI sends me a trending vitals report at the end of each week. There's no way you can get around that, even if you say pretty please. It’s preprogrammed.”“That's, that’s interesting.”“You know what else is interesting? That your AI Karen has restricted me from certain files in your suits memory. I, Tony Stark, the creator of your suit, was told no. Imagine my surprise.”Peter Parker attempts to juggle being Spider-Man, a high school student, and traumatized all at the age of sixteen. Aunt May does her best to be supportive of her superhero nephew and Ned is always there to be his Guy in the Chair. Sometimes, it's still too much for Peter. When he thinks things can't get even more complicated, a villain inserts itself into the mix. When Tony Stark decides to awkwardly step in, he tries to help Peter understand that his own health needs to come before Spider-Man. Peter isn't sure if he agrees.





	1. Faith, Trust, and My Guy in the Chair

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic has been a labor of love for the past 8 months!
> 
> Thank you so much to my best friend (and platonic soulmate) Kayy Tyler for being with me every step of the way. You've been the best reader I've ever had <3
> 
> Tags will be added as the story unfolds. Nothing is set in stone, and not everything is as it seems.

_'Maybe I should have said yes to the new suit,’_ was the first thing Peter thought while being surrounded by five robbers. This normally wouldn't phase him, but the sudden appearance of another masked man bearing a semi automatic rifle isn't the most encouraging thing. A sudden tingling sensation rapidly spreads from the back of his neck that makes his hair stand on end. Without hesitation, he leaps up to cling to the ceiling and uses his webs to fling three of the robbers out of the path of their partner’s spraying bullets. The bullets ping off metal jewelry cases and shatter their glass. When the flung robbers collide with the wall, they stare at the demolished jewelry cases in utter shock. Before they can gather their wits, Peter sends another string of web their way. The web expands midair and encases the torsos of the three robbers, pinning them in place.

“Peter? Peter! What happened? Are you there?!” Ned’s voice frantically asks through Peter’s suit. When Ned heard the cracking of the gunshots then Peter’s sudden radio silence, he thought of the worst possible scenario.

“Yeah! Yeah just, um, one sec!” Peter quickly shoots a web to yank the semi-auto gun from the robber’s grasp and pulls it into his own hand. As soon as he jumps down, he uses his free hand to shoot a net web at the remaining two robbers, restraining them too. He bounces on the balls of his feet and shakes out his hands to release some of the excess adrenaline. “Hey Ned, can you check the security cameras to make sure no bad guys got away?”

“Yeah, no problem, dude,” Ned answers immediately before Peter hears the clicking and clacking of the keyboard.

“Karen?” Peter asks the AI of his suit and her patient voice answers,

“Yes, Peter?”

“Scan everyone for injuries and check to see how far away the police are, please.” He looks up to the frightened store owner and customers huddled behind the wooden counter. “Hey everybody!” He attempts to sound reassuring as best as he can. “Uh, are you all okay?” Even though he knows Karen has a scan radius of miles, he walks closer to them to get a better look of his own. A few of them nod while others stare at the webbed up robbers.

“Injuries seem to consist of mild abrasions and slight lacerations due to the glass. No one is in need of immediate medical attention,” Karen answers for them. A small panel appears in front of Peter’s face displaying heart rates along with the highlights of all the minor injuries. “The police are two blocks away.”

“Awesome, awesome. Thank you, Karen.” He lets out a slow breath. It’s always a nerve racking wait to hear if anyone’s hurt.

“My pleasure.”

“I've checked all the rooms inside, the alley, and the surrounding block,” Ned speaks up, "but I don't see anyone dressed head to toe in navy blue and masks. I'm pretty sure you're clear.” _He always sounds confident when he’s my “Guy in the Chair,” even though I'm pretty sure he’s sitting in a bean bag chair right now_ , Peter thinks fondly.

“Thanks, man.” When Peter hears the sirens get within a block, he swings out the front doors and up the side of the building. It isn't a long climb to the top, it only being two stories, and he watches from above as the police arrive. He smiles to himself as he crouches with his forearms resting on his knees.

“More evil-doers thwarted by Spider-Man and his Guy in the Chair,” he declares with a wide smile hidden beneath his mask.

“That’s because we’re, like, the best team ever,” Ned responds matter-of-factly, but Peter can still hear the grin in his voice. He can tell Ned loves this just as much as he does.

“Even better than Han Solo and Chewbacca?” Peter challenges and Ned gasps overdramatically.

“How dare you bring Han and Chewie into this.” Peter can't help but laugh like the proud nerd that he is. Ned quickly joins in his laughter. “Alright, Karen, anything else happening?” Peter double checks.

“Nothing that has made it to the news. I have not found anything of interest over the police scanners either,” Karen informs. Based on her quick response, she was probably scanning the news stations while Ned and Peter were joking around. Peter tends to be slightly disappointed whenever Karen says there isn't anything to do, but he knows it’s always better than the possibility of innocent people getting hurt if something _were_ happening.

“Sweet. Ned, I'm gonna do some swinging around in case anything happens to pop up. Maybe we’ll actually get some sleep tonight.” Even the thought of getting a full night’s sleep starts to make Peter drowsy. He hasn't slept for more than four hours a night in about three weeks, which he knows isn't a good habit.

“C’mon, you know I’d rather stay up all night being your Guy in the Chair than sleeping!” Ned protests. Peter can't help but scoff.

“Oh yeah? And what about that History Exam tomorrow?” he asks, a slight smirk on his lips.

“Well…I mean, everyone else makes it through high school by cramming. Why can't we?” Ned weakly counters. He doesn't seem to have even himself convinced, let alone Peter. When Peter doesn't respond, Ned adds, “Fine, we can call it early tonight.”

“You go ahead and start studying, I’ll finish up patrol and call you when I get home.”

“You sure? I'm not too comfortable leaving you alone.” He sounds reluctant, but Peter waves through the air as if it’s no big deal.

“Yeah of course I'm sure. I was Spider-Man for almost a year by myself. Besides, I have Karen to keep me company.” He loves being able to talk to Ned during patrols, but he doesn't want Ned’s grades to suffer because of it. _This isn't his burden like it is mine,_ Peter thinks.

“Okay, but don't hesitate to call me if you need any backup.” Peter can't help but smile at his friend’s concern.

“Sounds good! Talk to you tonight.”

“Later, Peter!” With that, the picture of Ned’s contact in the corner of Peter’s interface disappears. He stretches his arms in front of him before standing up to prep himself for a swing. As he stands, black spots swirl around the edges of his vision. It takes a few moments of squeezing his eyes shut and blinking for his vision to clear.

“Woah,” he mutters breathlessly.

“Your blood glucose levels seem to be low. I recommend an intake of calories before continuing your patrol,” Karen informs him once he has regained his balance. “As well as a minimum of eight hours of sleep.”

“No need to worry. I’ll eat when I get home, okay? Patrol comes first.” There's a brief silence, and for a moment Peter worries that she won't answer at all.

“Alright, Peter. However, if you fail to do so, I’ll be forced to contact Tony Stark.” His muscles tense. He hasn't talked to Tony since he, very maturely, refused the suit. He didn't expect to be best friends with him after that, but he kind of expected a bit more…communication? Especially since the Vulture fiasco was due to a lack of communication. It's been a few months. _Then again,_ he ponders, _I’m just some Junior in Queens and he’s, well, Iron Man and a billionaire genius._ Surprisingly, Happy has actually responded to a few of his texts here and there. It’s better than last year when there weren't any answers.

“Um, how…how about we contact Happy before Mr. Stark? If we have to, y’know?” he offers lamely, wringing his hands together nervously.

“We can do that.” Karen’s voice is as patient as always, but also somewhat sympathetic. Peter nods a few times before shooting a web out from his right hand to the adjacent building, ready to continue his patrol.

True to Karen’s findings, there isn't anything going wrong in Queens at all. _Nothing!_ He spends the next three hours swinging to different parts of the city and finding absolutely nothing except a cat trying to run into oncoming traffic.

“Can you believe that, Karen?! Ater I saved it, it _hissed_ at me! I never thought a cat could make me feel so unappreciated.” After 9:00 pm, the overwhelmingly busy streets become free flowing and the sidewalks are only peppered with a few people here and there. By 10:00 pm, the only cars out are taxis and the only people out are homeless as well as some not-so-friendly looking people. Considering that he’s lived here for sixteen years, Peter had thought that he would’ve become desensitized to seeing homeless people at this point. Still, he feels sad whenever he sees them.

“Peter?” Karen’s voice gently pulls Peter from his thoughts.

“Hm?” he hums quietly.

“It is currently 10:53 pm. Your curfew is 11:00 as stated by your aunt. I suggest heading back to your apartment.” He groans slightly. Ever since May found out about his extracurricular activities, she set a strict curfew. Before she found out he was Spider-Man, she had never given him a time to be back home by. All she ever asked was to be kept in the loop, like a text here and there about what the plan was. When she came up with the curfew, she had said, "Eleven o’clock, do you hear me young man? Not a second later or swear I will have Tony Stark on the phone _so_ fast it’ll give him whiplash. Understood?” She knew how to reprimand Peter, obviously knowing that he’d hate to be a bother to Tony. Peter knows that he has better things to do.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll start making my way back,” he mumbles tiredly. Usually he would argue, but the sleep deprivation is talking for him this time.

“Don't forget to eat at home. Remember our deal?” Karen asks. Peter can't help but give a light chuckle.

“I remember, Karen. Scout’s honor.” Karen’s laugh lightens the mood.

“You’re funny, Peter.” It’s always nice when her mechanical voice has a hint of humor to it.

“Can you get Ned on the phone for me? I want to talk to him on my way home. He’ll help keep me awake.” Peter smiles at the thought of his best friend talking his ear off as he swings home.

“Of course. Calling Ned Le-” The thunderous boom of an explosion cuts off the rest of Karen’s sentence. Peter whips his head in the direction of the sudden sound.

“Cancel that. Change of plans.” He shoots his webs and makes his way towards the building with a now orange glow to it and smoke beginning to billow upwards. When he lands, he can see that the majority of the fire is on the first floor working its way up towards the second floor of the three story hotel. His heart speeds up.

“Running into a burning building is ill-advised. I caution constraint.” He ignores Karen's warning, too caught up in the sight of the growing flames.

“Okay…okay. Karen? Scan the building for me. I need you to, to find everyone and the quickest way to get to them. Call 911 too and send them the address.” He’s already running into the hotel as he finishes his thought. If he wasn't panicking before, he is now.

“Alright, Peter.” He takes a few steadying breaths.

“This is a piece of cake for Spider-Man, right?” he tries to comfort himself. “Spider-Man has climbed the Washington Monument, held onto the outside of a plane as it crashed, lifted a…” _lifted a building off himself,_ he finishes in his head.

“The most people are on the second floor, which contains sixteen people. The third floor has twelve, and the first floor has three.” He nods as Karen gives him the information, already forming a plan. “It seems the explosion was due to leaked gas near the back of the building. There is an unconscious woman and man to your left.” His head snaps to his left and he sees the glowing outline of two figures in the next room. He sprints through a doorway, whose door is only hanging on by one of its hinges. When he sees the man and woman both unconscious and pinned beneath slabs of drywall, his breath hitches. With shaky breaths and quick movements, he easily lifts the drywall and hoists them up. He carries them out over his shoulders and sets them outside as gently as possible while trying to not waste any time.

“Where’s the third?” He questions Karen once he’s back inside the burning hotel.

“Halfway up the stairs to the second floor.” When he rushes to the stairs, there’s a man on the landing between flights of stairs gripping his leg. An open gash bleeds through the man’s hands as he attempts to put pressure on it. Peter doesn't hesitate to put his arms underneath the man’s knees and neck, regardless of his sobs, and run him out. As Peter sets the man down, he hears cracking and shifting of the hotel behind him. “You need to hurry,” Karen urges as the hotel teeters. Peter climbs up the outside wall to the second floor, wanting to avoid the death traps known as stairs altogether, and jumps into the closest window.

“Hello?! Hello?!” he calls out, trying to get anyone to answer. There’s less fire on the second floor, but there’s way more smoke. He realizes that his mask can unfortunately only filter out so much. Once again, another great instance in which the new suit would have been helpful. “Where are they?” he asks as he tries to keep calm.

“They are all in their rooms,” Karen provides. Peter knows he’s lucky that the cheap hotel doesn't have many guests tonight, otherwise he’d have his work cut out for him even more than he already does.

“Which rooms?”

“Rooms 15, 18, 19, 22, 24, and 25.” For each room Karen lists off, Peter shoots a web to the corresponding door. When the six lines of webbing are attached to their respective doors, he pulls as hard as he can in one fell swoop to rip the doors off their hinges. As soon as he does, he pulls himself forward with a web and starts rounding people up, quite literally. Anyone who's too weak to walk he attaches a web to them and pulls them into the hallway. Those who are strong enough to walk on their own, he tells to go to the far window at the end of the hall. Once he has everyone rounded up, he selects a Splitter Web and shoots multiple streams to the ground. He successfully creates a makeshift ramp to the ground and shoots two Web Grenades at the bottom to act as padding, just in case.

“You have to go down the ramp-slide-thingy! I swear it’s safe! Please go!” With time running out and the hotel starting to crumble, he swings out the window and up to the top floor. “Okay, there's less people up here. You can do this, Spider-Man, you can do this.” Everyone seems to be out of their rooms on the third floor, but they're more panicked. When he notices that their stairway is blocked, he understands why. “It's, it’s okay. I got everyone else out and I have a way to get you guys out too,” he gets their attention and tries to reassure them. His eyes linger on two young girls who look beyond terrified. “Everyone to the-” The building shakes, causing almost all of them to fall. Peter maintains his balance and gets to work pulling everyone into a collective heap. Then…the ceiling starts to give way. A massive piece of drywall accompanied by insulation and heating ducts comes crashing down above them. Before he can even think of what he should do, he has the crushing weight of the entire slab attempting to smash him into the floor. The people around him gasp in shock and horror. With his eyes clamped shut and his breathing forced, he yells, “Go to the window! There's a slide!” Immediately, they're all scrambling towards the open window.

“Peter, your heart rate and blood pressure are elevated. There is also a mixture of toxic substances in your lungs. You need to get out.” Karen's voice is no longer patient or calm. She sounds almost as panicked as Peter feels. More debris falls on top and around him from the ceiling. His shoulders burn as he tries to not be crushed by the overwhelming weight.

“Thank you, Karen. I'm working on it,” he manages a sarcastic reply. He feels warm liquid begin to drip from his palms, but he keeps his eyes screwed shut. His breathing is only getting faster, which only confuses him. His muscles are tense and his jaw is clenched shut as if a single wrong movement would mean his death.

“You have lifted objects heavier than this. What's wrong?” Karen inquires.

 _God she’s right, but I have no idea. Why can't I lift it? I've stopped a_ bus _with my bare hands! I lifted a building off my-_ His breath hitches. _I lifted a building off myself. It's happening again. Not again. Oh god, not again. I can't…I can't do that again. Not, not after what happened last time. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	2. Your Friendly, Traumatized Spider-Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for panic attacks and minor amounts of blood. Stay safe!

“Peter, your oxygen saturation is 91% and your pulse is 147 beats per minute. You need to get out of the building to avoid loss of consciousness,” Karen’s voice is muffled due to the sound of blood rushing through Peter’s ears.

 _How am I supposed to move if I can't breathe?_ he wants to ask her. Black, moving dots, similar to the ones he saw on the roof, threaten to take over his sight again. His arms shake under the pressure of the drywall and suddenly it feels like the weight of the entire world is trying to crush him. _Everything and everyone is counting on me and oh god it’s too heavy. I can't do it. I just can't. It’s too much._ His palms are clammy and threatening to slip from the grip keeping that he believes is keeping him alive. _I'm not gonna make it I'm not gonna make it I'm not gonna make it I’mnotgonnamakeit_. He chews on the inside of his cheek. _I have to at least try. I didn't give up last time, and I won't give up now._

His chest burns, but he pushes through the pain and tremors. He forces his muscles to work past their limits to push the drywall up, but he drops to his knees. Karen’s trying to talk to him to figure out what’s wrong, but he can't hear her anymore. He can't hear anything. _Again. I have to try again. I'm Spider-Man. Spider-Man_. With one last surge of energy that he didn't even realize he had, he pushes himself to his feet and lifts the drywall just enough for him to slip out from under its weight. He stumbles forward only to collide harshly against the ash covered floor with a gasp. His chest heaves unevenly to pull in oxygen, even though it’s lined with smoke. The fire has already made it to the story he’s on. _I need, I need to get out. Get up Peter._ He forces himself to get up to his hands and knees, his head hanging low as he tries to find the strength to stand. He can't stop shaking, but he tries to ignore it.

“Calling Tony Stark.” Karen’s voice makes him snap his head up in sudden alarm.

“ _No!_ ” His hoarse voice surprises him, but he ignores it for the time being. The pause that follows his outburst causes his stomach to churn.

“Cancelling call,” Karen gives in. He takes in another shaky breath and forces himself to stand. His entire body has a dull ache, but he supposes it’s better than being crushed or burning to death. He tries to keep his hand stable as he shoots a web at the window sill and pulls himself towards it. Being lightheaded almost makes him fall out of the window, but he's able to use his enhanced grip to hang on. As fast as his body allows, he sends another web flying to the building across the street. While he swings over, he notices the fire trucks, cop cars, and ambulances speed to the front of the hotel. Relief overwhelms him. _Everyone’s safe. Everyone’s safe._

As soon as his feet touch the roof of the building, his legs give out and his bloodied palms dig into the gravel. _Who puts gravel on their roofs anymore?_ he thinks arbitrarily. He takes his first few gasps of crisp, clean air mixed with an occasional cough.

“I suggest medical attention for all injuries and to receive administered oxygen. It is also ten minutes past your curfew. Your aunt will be calling,” Karen informs him, almost smugly. Sometimes Peter swears that she actually wants him to get in trouble.

“How far away is Ned’s house?” he asks in between breaths.

“I suggest-”

“I know what you _suggest._  I'm _asking_ how far Ned is from me.” Another pause.

“Ned Leed’s house is 1.3 miles from your destination.” Peter breathes a shaky laugh.

“Piece of cake!”

“Your web canisters are almost empty.” _Ha,_ he thinks humorlessly, _of course they are. I shouldn't be surprised, I did make a webbing slide. That was pretty awesome if I do say so myself._

“Can I make it there before I run out?”

“Yes,” she confirms reluctantly. He takes a deep breath and nods. _I can make it, easy peasy…_

It was not easy peasy.

His muscles burned the whole way there. Every swing, every landing, and every breath _hurt._  Luckily, he could already start to feel his enhanced healing doing its job. The amount of relief he feels when he sees Ned’s house is almost palpable. When he goes to fire a web towards Ned’s roof, a measly foot and a half long web sputters out and floats downwards.

“You are out of web fluid,” Karen points out as he watches the web pathetically land on the ground.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Peter mutters as he crawls down the small house.

“Actually, my name is Karen. A name chosen by a dear friend.” Her voice softens for the first time since the fire. Peter can't help but smile as he feels heat rising to his cheeks. Once he's on the ground, he look to his left, his right, and his left again, then crosses the street to Ned’s.  _Safety is important after running into a flaming hotel._ He climbs up to Ned’s window and taps incessantly on the pane of glass. Plastic wheels squeak on the hardwood floor as Ned gets out of his chair. His eyes widen when he sees Peter and he scrambles toward the window. _Wow,_ Peter thinks, _I must look even worse than I feel._ Ned practically trips over his own two feet trying to reach the window. Peter winces when he notices his best friend step on a lego, but it barely phases Ned. He’s so strong. He pushes the window and yanks Peter inside.

“Dude! Easy!” Peter whispers harshly as he does his best to keep his balance. Ned locks the window shut then turns to him with panicked eyes.

“You said you were gonna call me if anything happened!” He gestures at Peter from head to toe. For the first time, Peter takes a look at himself and his suit. His hands are blistered and covered in dried blood, making it almost impossible to tell that there are tears in the suit over his palms. Besides that he's not injured, but he's completely covered in ash. There isn't an inch of the red from his suit visible.

“I didn't have any spare time to call! That’s why I came over as soon as I finished. It's not like I _planned_ to swing through three stories of a burning building,” Peter answers truthfully, the excuses practically jumping out of his mouth. Ned’s eyes widen even more, if it were possible, and he opens his mouth only to have indecipherable squeaks come out. “I'm fine! I swear.”

“You went into a building that was on _fire!_ That’s not fine! I'm your Guy in the Chair! I have to know these things! You literally look like you went on a bike ride through hell!” He has a few good points. With a huff, Peter pulls off his mask, which he immediately regrets when Ned’s blinding lamp pierces his eyes. Ned instantly catches onto his distress and dims it to a bearable glow.

“I know it was a bit, a bit stupid, Ned, but there were like thirty people in that building! Kids too! I couldn't just sit by and watch that happen, y’know?” Peter does his best to keep from tripping over his words, no doubt failing. His hands are still slightly trembling, which he tries to hide by gripping his mask.

“I understand why you did it, but that’s not the kind of thing you do by yourself. What if something happened to you? How would I have known? Any of us?” Ned looks like he’s about to start shaking too. Peter rakes his hands through his hair, nodding.

“I know, I know. I just, there honestly wasn't enough time. I was so focused on getting everyone out in time and then the-” He cuts himself off. _The drywall._  He doesn't even want to think about it, let alone talk it out. “It was just a lot. But I'm fine now, see?” He smiles for added effect, even though he knows what he looks like. _I look like an extra from the Mary Poppins chimney sweeps scene._

“What are you gonna tell your aunt?! What’s gonna happen when Tony Stark finds out?!” Peter can't help but wince at the mention of Tony's name. “Do you think he’ll be mad? Of course he’ll be mad but do you think he’ll yell at you? At _me?!_ I shouldn't be excited about Iron Man yelling at me but that’d be, like, a dream come true.”

“ _Ned._ ” Peter tries to shush him, his anxiety already spiking through the roof. “Can we just, just take it down a notch? Please?” Ned slowly nods.

“You need a serious shower.” Ned looks him up and down again and Peter’s aching muscles agree with him.

“Yeah…I'm gonna use your shower before heading home.” Peter presses the center of his suit as he nods in agreement. The suit loosens, sliding off his shoulders and onto the floor. As he sets his mask on Ned’s nearby desk, he hears a beeping. With an eyebrow raised, he slips the mask back on and Karen’s voice greets him.

“Hello, Peter, your aunt is calling.” _Oh no, oh no, oh no._

“Transfer the call to my phone!” he blurts out and almost slips on his discarded suit to grab his phone buried in the heap of it.

“What’s wrong?!” Ned questions, panicking again.

“May’s calling!” Peter rips his mask off again.

“Oh, well that’s not too bad right? We’ll just-”

“She wants to _FaceTime,_ ” Peter clarifies. Ned’s optimistic smile drops in an instant.

“We’re doomed…” Peter frantically waves him over and Ned clumsily rushes to his side. When Peter answers the call, he shoves it into Ned’s hands before speeding off to the bathroom. “Peter! Where are you go-Hey, Mrs. Parker! How are _you_ doing tonight?” Peter runs to the sink, trying to not slip on the tiled floor, and dunks his face and hair under the running water.

“Hi, Ned. How are you boys doing?” May patiently asks, her expectant eyes waiting.

“We’re great! You know how it is…studying and all that…” Ned laughs nervously.

“Where's Peter?” Ned tries not to let his face pale at May's question.

“Oh, where’s Peter?” Ned repeats louder so that Peter gets the message to hurry up. Even though Peter could hear just fine because of his enhanced hearing, he tries to hurry. “He’s in the bathroom! Yeah, getting all cleaned up…” Peter races back out of the bathroom and next to Ned, coming into view of his phone’s camera.

“Hey, Aunt May!” Peter greets as cheerfully as possible. “Just got out of the shower. What’s up?” He silently thanks whatever cynical being is watching over them that he doesn't have so much as a scratch on his face.

“Do you realize what time it is?” May asks patiently as she looks at her nephew over her round glasses. Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun and Peter observes she’s sitting on their couch. She was probably reading, if her slightly red, tired eyes are anything to go by.

“Oh, sorry! We lost track of time studying for tomorrow’s History test.” Peter feigns shock as best as he can.

“It’s alright, I’d just appreciate if you would text or call me next time. Remember our rules?”

“Of course! It was an accident, honest.” Peter couldn’t be more _dishonest,_ but he tries not to think about how guilty he feels.

“Please have Mrs. Leeds drive you back. I don't want you…” May waves her free hand around as if trying to portray something, "swinging around so late at night.”

“Got it, May.” Peter smiles and she smiles back.

“And sweetheart? Get dressed before you leave.” She smirks and Peter chuckles nervously. This is her sly way of getting some payback, since he decides to conveniently forget her rules. “Good night, Ned.”

“Good night, Mrs. Parker.” Ned can barely contain his laughter as May ends the FaceTime call. Peter rubs his hands over his face and groans,

“I can't believe that worked.”

“ _Barely,_ ” Ned laughs. “You really do need that shower though. I don't think a clean face is gonna be as convincing when the rest of you looks like…well, that.” He isn't wrong. Peter lets out a long breath and heads back into the bathroom. The shower he takes has to be the fastest of his entire life. For the entire three minute shower, he can't take his eyes off the blackened water swirling down the drain. Most of the cuts and bruises he received from the night are starting to heal, if not already healed. The only injuries leftover are his sore lungs and the bits of gravel lodged in his palms. If he had the time, he would work on getting the pieces out, but they're already healed over. He decides he’d rather make a mess in his own bathroom than leave a mess for Ned. As Peter showers, Ned does his best to brush the ash off the Spider-Man suit. It doesn't do much but hey, it's better than nothing. When Peter exits the bathroom, he smiles at his friend’s efforts to clean his suit.

“Don't worry about it, I can just throw it in the wash. The mask is the only thing I have to clean by hand.” Ned looks up from what he’s doing at the sound of Peter’s voice and stares at him like a deer caught in headlights. “Not that I don't appreciate it! It’s great! Thank you,” Peter quickly adds. He gives Ned a smile before rolling the suit up and putting it in the spare backpack he keeps here just in case.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Ned’s anxious voice asks. Peter doesn't understand why he’s anxious, but he reassures Ned nonetheless.

“Definitely.” Peter holds out his hand and smiles as Ned’s worry seems to disappear. They do their best friend handshake, like they have many times before, and Peter walks out to Mrs. Leeds’ car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is when the story starts to pick up!  
> Our favorite dad in titanium-gold alloy also makes his debut in the next chapter, so hopefully that gives you something to look forward to! Thank you for reading :)
> 
> -Kevy  
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	3. The Pain is Supposed to be Temporary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood, so watch out if you're squeamish! Only brief. Also, panic attack! Just want you all to be aware, in case someone missed the tags. Please be careful, this story may have triggering themes for some!
> 
> Happy to be adding some more characters! Hope you like them :) Also, updating schedule is going to be every Wednesday and Saturday! Enjoy!
> 
> -Kevy

“Hey, May!” Peter calls into the apartment as he shuts and locks the door behind him.

“How was studying?” May calls back. Peter walks into the living room and sets his backpack down next to the couch, falling onto the cushion next to his aunt. She has her legs tucked underneath her and a book on her lap.

“As exciting as studying can be.” Peter shrugs and leans on her. There are slight bags under May's eyes, probably due to the late night shifts she has been taking. She places a hand on his damp hair and kisses the top of his head.

“How’s Ned doing? I haven't seen him in almost a week. He should come over for one of our movie nights.”

“Yeah, that sounds like fun. He’s been good, too,” Peter agrees. May pats his shoulder and hums happily to herself.

“I'm glad. You should get some sleep, you have a busy day tomorrow. Last day of school for the week and then there's your  _ Stark Internship _ .” She emphasizes and bounces her eyebrows knowingly with a wide smile. Peter playfully roll his eyes and laughs. Ever since she found out about him being Spider-Man, she absolutely loves all their new inside jokes. Of course she was mad at first, which is something he definitely doesn't want to relive, but she has been incredibly supportive. He smiles, so grateful to have someone like May to be there with him.

“Only if you promise to get some sleep, too.” He feels May nod with her head resting on his.

“You drive a hard bargain, but I think I can agree to those terms.” May stretches her legs and lifts both of them off the couch. “Good night, baby. Love you.”

“Night May, love you too.” She squeezes Peter in a hug before heading to the back of their apartment to her room. Before heading to his room, Peter grabs a roll of paper towels and a glass of water. May’s room is dark when he shuts the door to his own and gets to work. He keeps an emergency first aid kit under his bunk bed, which was mostly used when May didn't know about his Spider-Man activities. For the most part, she dresses all his injuries that won't heal overnight. Well, except for this instance, of course. Peter sits down on the carpet and places paper towels on the hardwood floor in front of him. _Can't stain the wood, right?_ he reasons to himself. _Ha…it’s too late at night for this…_ Reluctantly, he takes out some antiseptic wipes, a couple pads of gauze, metal tweezers, and a few safety pins. It should be as simple as taking out a splinter, right? Right.

He looks at the peppering of shallow bumps underneath the skin of his palms and the raw blisters just above them. With a deep breath, he disinfects his hands. The stinging isn't bad, since pretty much all of the cuts and scrapes have already healed. Unfortunately, that’s what’ll make it more difficult to get the gravel out. He holds a safety pin in his right hand and stares at his left palm.  _ Okay, no problem. The faster you get it done, Peter, the faster it’s over.  _ As his hand gets closer, it starts to shake.  _ Focus. Just press the…pin underneath your skin. No problem. _ He notices he's been holding his breath and quickly pulls away when he feels the pressure on his shoulders.  _ Deep breaths. Deep breaths. _ He reaches into his backpack to grab his still grimy mask and slip it on. When he does so, he makes sure his eyes are closed so Karen can't see the display before him.

“Hey, Karen?”

“Hello Peter,” her sweet voice greets. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Can I just, well, can you promise me something? I need help with something, but I can't tell or show you what it is until you promise it stays between us. Okay?” Peter keeps his eyes shut to keep Karen from seeing his palms.

“Only if you keep your word about eating something before you sleep,” Karen reminds. Oh yeah huh. Peter almost forgot.

“I promise, but this kinda takes priority.”

“I’m always happy to help.” With a steadying breath, he opens his eyes to show her. “My skin healed over the gravel, so now I have to get it out. But when I try to do it, it feels like, like I can't? It feels like I'm back  _ there _ and under the drywall and the concrete and it was an entire  _ building _ on top of me-”

“What do you mean?” Karen interrupts his nervous rambling with her concerned tone. He hadn't realized he said anything about the time Toomes dropped a concrete warehouse on him. “I don't have visual or audio records of a building previous to this night.”  _ That’s because the suit was taken away _ .

“Uh, never mind. I just need help getting these out, please.”

“Alright Peter, have you disinfected the area?” He nods and follows all of Karen's instructions. Being able to talk to her helps calm Peter's nerves and he's able to get all the gravel out of both of his hands. After he does, he wraps gauze around his hands and  decides to let his enhanced healing do the rest overnight. They should be healed by morning.

“Thanks Karen, I appreciate it,” Peter mumbles tiredly.

“It is not a problem. Eat something and have a good night’s sleep.”

“Yeah, good night Karen.” With that, he takes the mask off and sets it on his bed. Even though he could fall asleep as soon as he hits the bed, he takes his suit to the washing machine then checks the fridge for a snack. May keeps it even more stocked than it used to be, knowing that she needs to feed a teenager with an insanely fast metabolism. It’s 12:46 am, officially making it a midnight snack! He notices some leftover pizza in a plastic bag and decides that a cold slice of pizza is exactly what he needs. By the time he walks back to his room, he has practically inhaled the pizza and it almost tempts him to get another piece. Unfortunately, he knows he has study for tomorrow’s History test and it’s already almost 1am. He could try winging it, but he hasn't studied nearly as much as he normally does. There just aren't enough hours in the day.

He makes it to around 2:30 am going through his class notes before his body forces him to sleep. When he wakes up, feeling beyond exhausted and drained of energy, May has already left for her hospital shift. The first thing he does is unwrap the restricting gauze from his hands, happy to be rid of it. He’s slightly shocked when he sees faint red lines still across his palms. They should be healed by now. He opens and closes his hands a few times, but there isn't any substantial pain. Oh well, they’ll be fine by the end of the day. He debates having a shower to help wake himself up, but he’s already running late. That’s what happens when you hit snooze one too many times. After getting his thankfully clean suit out of the wash and into his backpack, he’s ready to face the day!

Well, that’s what he thought until he gets to History class…the test doesn't go so well. It doesn't help that History is already not one of his best subjects. Math, Chemistry, and Biology, however, he can do all day long. Then there's economics…his worst class. Luckily, he doesn't have an exam for that class until next week.

Ned and Peter wait outside the school at the end of the day for their rides. Normally they would already be starting patrol, but Friday afternoons are the days he gets to work on the suit at Stark Tower. However, since he’s always on business trips and involved with Avengers stuff, Tony isn't ever there. Happy keeps Peter company though, which usually consists of Happy sitting in the corner of the room on his phone and making sure Peter doesn't blow up the workshop.

“You seem kind of out of it today. Everything okay?” Ned asks as Peter stares at his hands. They’re still red. His head snaps up to meet Ned’s eyes.

“I'm great! Just didn't sleep well. I studied until two in the morning and still bombed the test,” Peter laughs halfheartedly.

“C’mon,  _ The _ Peter Parker failing a test? Impossible! I'm sure you did great.” Ned bumps Peter with his shoulder and they smile.

“Dorks in love. I ship it,” MJ says as she sits down cross-legged next to the two boys. Peter stares at her with wide eyes, but she reads her book like she didn't say anything.

“Wha- we’re not, I mean, he’s my best friend, we’re not, it isn't,” Peter frantically stumbles over his words to try to explain.

“Yeah!” Ned instantly agrees as he nods over and over.

“Too bad,” MJ closes her book and looks at the two boys “you two woulda been cute as hell. So, what’s wrong with you?” She makes eye contact with Peter.

“Ha! See! It’s not just my imagination,” Ned exclaims. Peter quickly turns to him with a pointed look and his eyebrows raised. Peter knows MJ isn't stupid and he already has two people he didn't plan on telling his secret identity to.

“Nothing’s wrong with me, just a bit sleepy,” Peter repeats while facing forward again.

“You’re looking a little boney too.” MJ disinterestedly pokes his cheek a few time and Peter gives her an exasperated look. “See. Grumpy Peter.”

“I'm  _ okay _ _ ," _ Peter urges. MJ  purses her lips slightly and narrows her eyes as if she doesn't believe him, but then nonchalantly shrugs her shoulders.

“Keep telling yourself that, Parker. Later Ned.” She hops back up and walks back inside. 

“Did she come out just to say all that?” Peter asks turning to Ned, who just shrugs his shoulders.

“I dunno, but your ride’s here.” Ned points to the black Bentley with “Stark 13” plates parked in front of the school. The passenger window is rolled down, showing Happy with his sunglasses on and gesturing for Peter to hurry up.

“I’ll talk to you after I'm done at the Tower!” Peter waves bye to Ned with a smile and jogs to the car. He grins as he reaches for the passenger door.

“Hey, Happy!” If he’s as cheerful as he normally is, Happy won't have anything to report to Tony.

“Hey. Backseat today.” Happy jerks his thumb towards the back, causing Peter to raise a confused eyebrow. Peter has been riding in the front seat ever since Homecoming, so why the change? Maybe May contacted him? When he doesn't get any further explanation, he opens the backdoor instead. Tony’s impassive eyes stare back at him. Peter freezes.

‘ _ We’re doomed _ ,’ Ned's words echo in his head. Peter's muscles immediately tense and, contrary to popular belief, he’s utterly speechless. He doesn't know whether to feel anxious or excited or angry or confused. His emotions battle and decide to settle on confused.

“Mr. Stark? Is something, is something wrong? What are you doing here?” His anxiety starts to resurface when he considers all the possibilities of something going wrong. “Is-”

“Your aunt’s fine. Hop in, Underoos,” Tony interrupts nonchalantly. Peter hasn't heard the nickname in months and it’s strange to hear, but he listens nonetheless. He slides into the open seat next to his mentor and shuts the door behind him before Happy pulls out of the school’s parking lot. It’s awkward to say the least. The silence is crippling, actually, and Peter can't even force himself to strike up a conversation. “How’s school?” Tony asks about five minutes after they start driving.

“It's good, Mr. Stark.” Peter nods a few times and clasps his hands in his lap.

“Out with it, kid.” He looks up at Tony and tilts his head in confusion.

“Out with what?”

“You’re a terrible liar.” Tony almost looks amused, as if Peter Parker lying were the most entertaining thing he had ever witnessed. He’s going to have to be a bit more specific. Peter keep his hands clasped. “Your suit’s AI sends me a trending vitals report at the end of each week. There's no way you can get around that, even if you say pretty please. It’s preprogrammed.” His voice is strong and steady. He doesn't realize that his words are causing Peter’s heart to pound and breathing to speed up. Peter can't tell if Tony’s mad, but he almost wishes he were so that he knew what he was thinking.

“That's, that’s interesting,” Peter mumbles.

“You know what else is interesting?” Tony asks, sounding genuinely intrigued. Peter stays silent. There’s no point in trying to argue. “That your AI Karen, as you've named her, has restricted  _ me _ from certain files in your suits memory. I, Tony Stark, the creator of your suit, was told  _ no _ . Imagine my surprise. Of course, being the genius that I am, it took me all of two seconds to get through the little pinky promise you two made.” Peter doesn't dare to interrupt him. Not after what happened last time.  _ No, this is where you  _ zip _ it! The adult is talking. Sorry doesn't cut it. I wanted you to be better. It isn't working out. I'm going to need the suit back. _ “It was cute really. Haven't had one of my AI’s make a pact with someone before. Then I found out you haven't been eating enough. Teenage Spidey with super metabolism hasn't been getting the necessary calories to sustain patrols.” When Tony pauses for almost a full minute, Peter speaks up.

“This is about my diet?” It isn't what he thought Tony was going to bring up. “But I eat a lot of food.” Doesn't he? Last night was only a one time thing.

“But wait, there's more! It’s like one of those bad infomercials from the nineties.” Tony actually doesn't sound mad, but it wouldn't be the first time he has sounded calm before exploding. Peter has seen it first hand. Tony gestures for Peter to lift his clasped hands. Even though Peter know what he’s looking for, he doesn't hesitate to lift his palms. There's no point in hiding them when Tony already knows. Peter still doesn't look up. “It has also affected your healing factor and sleep schedule,” Tony continues as he inspects Peter’s palms.

“I didn't realize…” Either that or he didn't want to realize. He’s not sure which it is anymore.

“Oh we’re just getting started, Pete.” _Why doesn't Mr. Stark sound angry? Shouldn't he be angry? I've been keeping things from him, he should be angry!_ When Tony unlocks his door, Peter notices they have arrived at the Tower. Peter shakily reaches for his door handle and steps out. They continue their conversation alone after they walk inside and take the elevator to the workshop. “Then,” Tony starts again “I have to unearth the deleted footage from last night’s fiasco, since your partner in crime Karen decided to get rid of it for you. F.R.I.D.A.Y., put it on the hologram please.” Almost instantaneously, a hologram of the burning hotel from last night comes to life. Peter’s jaw tightens at the scene and he grips the hem of his jeans. He doesn't want to see this again. He _can't._ “Peter.” Tony’s voice is so uncharacteristically soft that Peter manages to drag his eyes away from the hologram. “You could have easily lifted it off you. I know the limits of your strength and it isn't drywall. Why didn't you lift it?” For a few painstakingly long moments, Peter can't speak.

“I…I couldn't?” His voice isn't as confident as I'd like it to be.

“Kid, I’ve seen videos of you stop vehicles with your bare hands. There’s no way in hell you couldn't have lifted that.” He hears some of Tony’s frustration seep through and his breath gets caught.  _ I've disappointed him. I've disappointed him again. _

“It's just not, not that simple. It was the combination of the fire and the, and the smoke. It was…” The words die along with Peter’s thoughts. It won't make sense unless he tells Tony  _ why  _ it freaked him out, and he can't bring himself to do that.

“I don't think you fully understand what could have gone wrong. You could've gotten a lot more than just some scraped up hands. We need to talk about what happened and we need to do it  _ now _ .” His anger finally starts to show. “The fire could have burned you alive or the building could have collapsed on top of you. I can't go pulling a  _ sixteen year old kid _ out of a heap of ashes and-” Peter’s brain tunes everything out once Tony suggests the building burying him alive. The visuals come with Tony’s words, not just from last night but also from the night Toomes collapsed tons and tons of concrete on top of Peter. His Spidey Sense erupts at the base of his skull, sending chills throughout his whole body. Remembering the mixture of thick dust in the air and water trickling on the ground in front of him are enough to hit him full force. He can feel the pressure on his back as the concrete rips through his homemade suit. His chest can't expand more than a few centimeters, making it almost impossible to get a full breath. He wants to scream but his throat is too dry to make a sound.

_ No one will ever find me. _

_ I'm stuck under tons and tons and tons of immovable concrete. _

_ Karen isn't here to talk me out of it. _

_ I can't call May or Mr. Stark or Ned. _

_ I'm going to die down here and no one is going to find me for days. They don't even know I'm in trouble. I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't scream. My ears are ringing. No one can help me. No one can save me. I'm all alone. I can't do it. It’s never ever ever going to end. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	4. Spiralling Downwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, all! Thank you tons and tons for all the kudos and positive feedback in the comments! It really is appreciated and I'm so glad you like the story so far :)
> 
> We get some Tony Peter bonding time in this chap! This is a little bit of a breather before everything starts to really kick off! The next chapter is only 7 pages as opposed to my typical 10-12 page chapters, so I was curious if you all prefer to have two chapters posted on Saturday or only one? Be warned though, if I post two chapter on Saturday then you'll have to wait longer since chapter 6 ends on a cliffhanger ;)
> 
> Let me know what you all prefer! Have fun and stay safe!

It’s like being stuck in a nightmare while you're awake. It isn't real and nothing can actually hurt you, but you don't know that at the time. In the moment, everything is so _terrifying_ that you don't even consider the option of it not being real. Peter knows he’s not actually being pinned down by a building, but he can feel the weight on his entire body. It feels so _real_ and he can feel everything as if it were happening all over again. He doesn't even have his homemade suit this time. He has nothing. No one. His head pounds as if it’s going to explode and he can't help but grip his head. It’s the only movement he can manage. _Everything just needs to stop…Please just stop. I can't do this anymore. The pain, the weight, it's too much. I can't I can't I can't I can't…_

“Peter?” Tony asks when he notices him holding his head, but Peter can't hear him. Everything’s too loud and his senses can't handle it. Peter suddenly drops to the floor on his hands knees, breathing fast and erratically. He feels like he’s going numb and disappearing beneath the weight. Tony’s heart practically leaps out of his chest when he sees the teenager crumple to the floor. He scrambles to keep Peter from falling onto his side. “Easy, easy, just…shit, breathe.” Peter subconsciously flinches at his voice, so Tony presses his hand against Peter’s ear to block out the excess noise. Tony starts to panic too. How is he supposed to comfort a kid who’s freaking out? Peter can't be having an panic attack. It’s not possible. He can't…he can't be like him. Tony holds Peter to his chest, hoping that the kid can feel his breathing.

Peter feels as if he’s pinned. He can't move, can't breathe, can't do anything. But then he starts to feel warmth. There’s another type of pressure…but it’s gentle and comforting. He grips it as if his life depends on it and curls in on himself. If he makes himself as small as possible, maybe the pain will disappear when he does. But…he doesn't want to leave the warmth. He doesn't want to be selfish, but he can't be alone again.

“It’ll be okay, Pete, but I need you to breathe. God, if you ever listen to me once in your life, do it now. C’mon kid.” _Mr. Stark? Why does he sound worried? I haven't ever heard him sound anything other than smug and egotistical._ It’s then that Peter notices the burning in his chest and the shaking of his body from head to toe. His eyes are clamped shut and his ears have something soft pressed against them. Everything sounds muffled, but Tony’s voice is as clear as day. _I'm safe. I'm here, at the Tower. I'm okay and I'm not going anywhere._ Once he doesn't feel the harsh pressure anymore, he’s finally able to gasp in a breath. His chest is sore, but the rush of air makes it worth it. “Thank fuck,” Tony mutters under his breath. He hadn't realized he had gotten so worked up over Peter’s sudden collapse.

Peter begins to feel light movement on his back and quickly realizes that Tony is rubbing comforting circles on it. He doesn't know whether to feel relaxed or mortified that someone like Tony Stark has to deal with him. As his senses become sharper, he figures out that he’s sitting on the ground and Tony’s doing the same next to him. It takes a few more moments to notice that he’s leaning into Tony, instantly making him feel more embarrassed. Tony’s sleeve is pressed to his exposed ear while his other ear is pressed into his mentor’s chest. After the rush of adrenaline finally leaves his system, the tremors set in.

“You're, you’re lucky that Captain America isn't, isn't here. I've heard how much, how much he doesn't like bad language.” Peter tries to cover up his shaking with humor, but Tony doesn't laugh. He doesn't even chuckle.

“How are you feeling?” Peter can't handle his concerned tone. It’s so unlike Tony to sound concerned. It doesn't feel right. It makes Peter's stomach twist to think that he caused this. He tries to open his eyes to read Tony’s face, but as soon as he does, the fluorescent lights above them feel like they sear his eyes. He gasps painfully and slams his eyes shut again.

“The mask, the mask,” are the only words he can force out as he covers his eyes with his hands. Tony’s body shifts, but then he says,

“I can't reach it. I'm going to have to get up, but I'll be quick.” Peter slightly nods, just wanting the mask as fast as possible. However, when Tony gets up, Peter’s body feels cold again. That isn't the worst part, though. Tony’s sleeve and chest leave his ears, causing a bombardment of clanking and whizzing from around the workshop to slam into his eardrums all at once. Peter holds back a scream by biting his cheeks and curling into a ball on his side. A soft fabric brushes against the back of his hand and he grips onto it as Tony leans his back against a metal desk. Peter quickly pulls the mask onto his head and the majority of his senses are immediately lowered. The once ear piercing noises are dulled to be manageable and the amount of light the mask lets in is reduced to almost zero. Overstimulation hasn't bothered him _that_ much since his first week following the spider bite. He takes in a long, shaky breath in an attempt to calm his trembling body.

“I'm okay. I'm okay.” Peter’s voice isn't much above a whisper, but it isn't meant for anyone besides himself anyways.

“I'm going to have you spend the night here,” Tony insists after a few minutes of Peter whispering encouraging words to himself. Peter looks up at him, his words not quite registering.

“What? But why? I can, I can have May pick me up. It’s not a problem, Mr.-”

“Oh don't even start with me kid,” Tony interrupts, his voice shifting from patient to dead serious. “This is definitely a problem. In fact, when you have an panic attack in _my_ tower it becomes _my_ problem. Who the hell am I kidding, you’re already my problem. Keep pulling these stunts and you’ll drive me to an earlier grave. Christ, I sound like my father.” Peter can't help but smile to himself, grateful that Tony can't see it. He hasn't heard Tony ramble like this before and it's kind of comforting to see the human side of him come out. Then, Peter’s mind goes over what he said again.

“Panic attack…? I know what they are but, but that couldn't have been one. They're caused by, by traumatic stuff right? Like, when someone close to you dies or…” Peter searches his brain for other possible reasons, but it isn't cooperating. The only experience he has ever had with panic attacks was when May would get them after Uncle Ben died.

“Or when _you_ almost die. Anything traumatic can trigger them, it isn't only monumental things. In fact, trauma doesn't always cause them either,” Tony informs. “What happened last night, however, that can definitely cause them.” His voice is calm and soft, since he's slightly cautious about triggering another response from Peter.

“It wasn't the first time…” Peter whispers. It sends shivers up his spine. He doesn't want to worry Tony, but he just can't hold it in anymore. Harboring the memory alone is too heavy and he needs to have somebody else who knows. He thought he could, but he can't do it alone anymore.

“What?” Tony asks incredulously, but Peter frantically shakes his head. Peter wants him to know, but for him to talk about it right after what just happened? When all that caused him to spiral down was a few words? It's just not the right time. “Alright, we’ll talk about it later. Why don't you stay for the weekend? We’ll work everything out and have some superhero bonding time.” Peter can tell he’s desperately trying to lighten the mood, so he doesn't oppose.

“I’m gonna call May to let her know.” His voice is raspy and it takes every ounce of his energy just to speak.

“Alright, Underoos.” Tony offers a slight smile before helping Peter stand and awkwardly guiding him over to one of the couches. He gives Peter some privacy by cleaning up some tools in the corner. As soon as Peter gathers the courage to call May, he speaks up.

“Karen?”

“I'm already on it, Peter.” May’s contact picture pops up and he smiles. What would he do without Karen? It takes a few rings, but May answers like she always does.

“Hey handsome, you alright?” her cheerful voice answers and, for some reason, Peter can't help the tears that well up in his eyes.

“Hey Aunt May,” he mumbles, trying to think of what exactly he wants to say. He decides that the truth is the best way to go with this one. “Is it alright if I stay up here for the weekend? I had a bit of a…problem? I guess?”

“Baby, what's wrong?” she questions, suddenly sounding protective. “Do you need me to come get you?”

“No no no, I promise I'm okay. I just had a blood sugar issue and Mr. Stark wants to monitor it over the weekend. It was his idea, actually.” Okay, partial truth isn't better than the whole truth, but it _is_ better than a complete lie. May takes a deep breath.

“Alright, but if anything happens, you or Stark call me. Understand? And no out-of-the-country field trips like Germany.” Her voice is stern, but Peter couldn't agree with her more.

“Yeah, May. I won't be going anywhere. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Karen ends the call and Peter rests his head in his hands. This isn't exactly what he had planned for the weekend. He distantly thinks about calling Ned too, just to keep him in the loop. He’ll freak out when he hears Peter is staying at the Tower for the entire weekend.

“Ready to head up?” Tony speaks up. It might be better to call Ned somewhere private so that Tony doesn't hear Ned gushing over the situation. “I got some leftovers up in the penthouse fridge. You’re gonna sit and eat until it looks like I’ve done spring cleaning,” he practically orders Peter. Seeing as Peter is in _his_ tower while previously working on a suit that _he_ made him, he decides to listen to Tony. Peter slowly gets up, careful not to show how tired he feels, and follows Tony to the elevator.

The ride up is silent and tense. Peter can't help but go over the last fifteen minutes in his head and feel beyond embarrassed. Just the thought of Tony having to snap him out of an panic attack instead of doing something more productive is mortifying. His hands self consciously hold his elbows as he torturously waits until they reach the penthouse. When the doors open, Tony strides out with his hands in his pockets and Peter stares at the room with wide eyes. He can't even call it a room it's so gigantic! The penthouse has its own bar to the far left and a massive glass wall to the right that overlooks the city. At the center there's a sitting area with some sort of metal pipe art piece hanging above it. He’ll never understand the point of modern art. A large wrap around couch with what must be more than twenty seats encases a coffee table another two chairs. This room alone is bigger than his entire apartment.

“Woah, this is insane!” His eyes dart around the room in awe, quickly taking everything in as if it’ll disappear any second.

“Hm?” Tony hums, completely oblivious to Peter's astonishment. “Oh. Yeah, penthouse sweet penthouse.” He turns around to smirk smugly at Peter.

“Well, aren't you all that and a bag of chips?” Peter challenges as he steps out of the elevator as well.

“I’m the whole damn snack aisle, kid. So,” Tony walks over to the bar and opens a mini fridge, “what do you feel like?” Peter’s eyes instantly widen and his cheeks heat up against his will.

“Mr. Stark, I'm sixteen! I can't, I can't have alcohol!” he exclaims in disbelief. How could Tony even think of offering him alcohol?!

“Jesus Christ,” Tony mutters and pulls out various takeout boxes. “It’s leftovers. You really think I'm _that_ irresponsible? I mean I know I’m pretty bad, but I'm not _that_ bad. Besides, I doubt your metabolism would even let you get drunk. Thankfully.” Peter doesn't think he has ever felt so embarrassed in his entire life. His face might spontaneously combust. Tony puts each of the boxes into the microwave as Peter silently inspects the penthouse. “Peter,” Tony pulls Peter’s attention back. Peter’s eyes snap to him as Tony rubs his forehead with his thumb. in frustration

“Yeah, Mr. Stark?”

“You’re allowed to sit,” Tony says as though it’s painfully obvious.

“Oh, yeah. Right.” Peter walks over to the bar, but stares at the stool in front of him. “Am I legally allowed to sit here or…?”

“Kid.”

“Right.” Peter sits down and waits for the food to be ready. Tony places three plates of different types of food in front of him. Peter picks up his fork, suddenly eager to eat, when Tony clears his throat. Tony gestures to the mask that’s still covering Peter’s face. _Wow I feel stupid_. Peter slowly takes off the mask to see if his senses can handle it, and he's happy to find out that he can bear to have it off. “Thank you!” is all he says before digging in. He definitely didn't realize how hungry he was because it feels like his stomach is a bottomless pit. Tony, satisfied that he’s finally getting some food in the pale, skinny kid, eats some food of his own behind the bar.

“How you feel?” he casually inquires. Peter nods.

“Better,” Peter answers after swallowing to avoid talking with his mouth full. As they eat in silence, Peter can't help his wandering mind from thinking about patrol. How can he patrol while spending the weekend at the Tower? He can patrol over here but he’ll have the time to do it, right? An onslaught of insecurities and worst case scenarios overwhelm him. _Mr. Stark will let me be Spider-Man, won't he? He won't…he won't keep me from it like last time? He won't take the suit?_ “Hey, what times can I patrol this weekend? Y’know, I'm sure you’ll be busy so I can just go at my normal hours right? I’ll be in touch with Ned and I still have Karen so-”

“No.” Tony holds up a single finger, immediately making Peter go silent. “You’re going to eat your food before we talk about anything Spidey related. I don't want so much as a peep before at least two plates are empty.” Peter’s temporary relief from anxiety is dearly missed when Tony doesn't agree. Peter has to go out patrolling. It's one of the only things he looks forward to. He bounces his leg nervously as he eats at a slower pace than before. _I already get less patrol time on Friday afternoons to work here on the suit, but now I have to miss tonight and the rest of the weekend? What if something happens? What if there are people out there that’ll get hurt because I'm not there? Then it’s my fault. It’s on me.  
_

“ _Peter_ .” Peter sucks in a breath and looks up at Tony. Tony looks down at Peter’s hand, then back up to his eyes. Peter follows Tony’s eye movement. Peter has accidentally bent the metal fork against the plate with his super strength _…_

“Oh my gosh, Mr. Stark I'm so sorry! It was an accident!” Peter quickly bends the fork back into its shape, but it still looks a bit weird.

“Relax. It's just a fork.” Peter’s breath hitches. _I can't believe I just apologized to a billionaire for a fork. You’re such a screw up, Peter._ “I'm not worried about the fork I'm worried about-” Tony abruptly stops and rubs his forehead. “Just don't overthink anything. No overthinking. All I want you to do right now is eat. Got it?” Peter slowly nods, not quite keeping up with his mentor’s lightning fast train of thought. Tony swears this kid will be the death of him if aliens don't beat the kid to it. It doesn't take long for Peter to finish the rest of the food and, for what feels like the first time in forever, he's actually full.

“I'm done, Mr. Stark,” he mumbles, feeling like a little kid at the dinner table asking to be excused. Except it's a bar in a multimillion dollar building and Tony isn't his…parent. Tony looks at the empty plates and clasps his hands together.

“Nice work, kid. Bedtime! I'll show you your room for the weekend. It’ll be on the same floor as mine ‘cause I don't trust you enough for you to not sneak out. You’re old enough to not need a bedtime story, right? ‘Cause I don't do those.” Has he lost his mind or is this why he hasn't ever had kids?

“It’s eight o’clock. I don't go to sleep for at _least_ four more hours.”

“Ah, that's where you’re wrong.” Tony walks out from behind the bar and claps his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I got every ounce of data out of your suit. You're getting a full night's rest if it kills me, and that means at least eight hours of it. Might as well get an early start.” He releases Peter’s shoulder shows him to the room he’ll be staying in. It’s a typical guest room, minus the fact that it's three times the size of Peter’s own room, with little to no furniture and a bed against the wall. There isn't anything personal in the decorating and it doesn't look like anyone has ever stayed in the room. It might sound a bit dumb, but it makes Peter sort of nervous to be sleeping somewhere knowing that May is somewhere else. He has lived the majority of his life knowing that she was right down the hall from him and that she would come in a heartbeat if he called for her. She’d probably still come here in a heartbeat, but he wouldn't bother her like that.

“I'll see you in the morning. Good night, Mr. Stark.”

“G’night, kiddo.” Tony closes the door behind him and Peter is left to himself for the first time since school got out. It feels both relieving and lonely at the same time. Why does being a teenager have to be so complicated? With a heavy sigh, he pulls out his spare set of gym clothes to change into. _Mr. Stark needs to give me more of a heads up when he decides on something like this. I have no change of clothes, no pajamas, and no toothbrush! Not cool._

After he changes, he decides that now’s a better time than ever to give Ned a call. He can't help but wince at all the text messages from Ned that he has failed to answer in the last few hours. When he calls Ned, his best friend answers after the first ring.

“What happened to patrol tonight?! Is everything okay?!” Ned questions frantically.

“Yeah man, everything’s good. Slight change of plans though.”

“When you say something like that, it doesn't make me think things are actually ‘good.’” Peter’s sure that if he could see Ned, he’d be making air quotes right now.

“I'm kind of spending the weekend at Stark Tower?” It comes out as more of a question, but despite Peter’s uncertainty it’s enough to send Ned into borderline hysterics.

“The whole weekend?! At the tower?! With _Tony Stark?!_ I can't believe you're having a sleepover with _Iron Man_ _!”_ Peter can't help but laugh at Ned’s enthusiasm.

“Ned, slow down. Yes, I'm spending the weekend but it’s purely Spider-Man related. He wants to make sure I'm healthy enough to stay on patrol.”

“You are, right?” Peter falls silent. _Am I?_

“Of course! He just wants to run a few tests. Like a checkup at the doctors.”

“Oh yeah, _just_ like the doctors. I would freak if my doctor were Tony Stark. I wouldn't want to avoid my checkups so much then.” They both laugh and continue to chat for a while. It’s around 9:30 pm when they finally decide Peter should get some sleep before Tony blasts down the door in the Iron Man suit. After they say their goodbyes, Peter does his best to drift off into a deep, restful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH okay, I'm so excited Tony and Pete are interacting and VERY SOON there will be more new characters! Then the plot thickens...
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	5. Night Terrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, but a lot happens so don't worry :) The chapters after this one will be much longer! Have fun and stay safe!
> 
> -Kevy

_My heart pounds against my chest as I stare into the dark brown eyes that I thought I could trust. I don't dare to breathe, afraid that any movement whatsoever will cause the situation to spiral out of control. Tears well up in my eyes and give me no warning before spilling over. For once, I don't care if anyone sees. I don't care if the whole world sees._

_“Mr. Stark please. I’ll, I’ll be better I swear. Whatever I did…I’m sorry. I won't, I won't do it again. Please.” I'm not afraid to beg. I can't help it. Looking into my mentor’s eyes and seeing them so angry at_ me _, I know I’d do anything to make it right. I’ve spent my entire life looking up to him and I finally got to meet him, only for it to end up like this. What’s worse is that I don't even know what I did wrong. His eyes contain a cold fury that I’ve never seen before as he hovers above me in the Iron Man suit. It’s as if he’s looking at someone he loathes. He can't loathe me. He can't._

_“You’re oblivious and ignorant. It’s…disappointing,” he lectures in a dangerously low voice. No. I can handle him being mad at me, but disappointed? How could I do that again? Am I…am I really that much of a screw up? It’s then that I realize we’re in a warehouse. A warehouse with concrete columns. My breath hitches. “This is it, Underoos.” His use of the nickname causes me physical pain. I had no idea I had grown so accustomed to it, but hearing it under these circumstances only makes it hurt more._

_“Please, I won't-” My weak pleads are cut off by the high pitched whine of his repulsors charging and the deafening boom that follows as the beams of energy blow apart the concrete ceiling. I can't even manage a scream before the massive chunks of cement fall on me. I can't move or breathe or see and it’s happening all over again._

_Everything is so dark._

_But I know my eyes are open._

His eyes have to be open.

The same brown eyes are looking down on him. No. He wants to beg him to please not do it again. He didn't mean to. He wants to push him away, but he can't move. He can't move and he can't breathe, but he can stare. It’s the only thing he _can_ do. No matter how hard he tries to move something, _anything_ , he just can't. His chest is tight and his lungs are begging for oxygen. Tony’s angry, isn't he? No. He's disappointed. Peter needs to get away from him or Tony’s going to do it again. He needs to get out from under the concrete! He can't take it! Tony's hands are suddenly on Peter's shoulders, shaking him. It’s enough to jar Peter from his thoughts and he feels the weight lift from his body. As soon as he's able to, he gasps in a breath. He needs to get away, he needs to get away, he needs to get away.

Peter pushes Tony off of him as quickly as his reflexes let him, but then Tony firmly grabs his forearms. _He’s going to trap me again. Underneath the concrete. Underneath an entire building._ Peter becomes desperate to get out of Tony's grasp and struggles as hard as he can.

“Pete, calm down! You’re alright! You’re alright!” Tony sounds panicked and desperate, but Peter knows it’s an act. It has to be, otherwise Tony wouldn't have dropped that building on him. Peter rips his arms free from Tony's grasp and kicks him in the chest to the far wall. It isn't enough force to send Tony through it, but it causes a sizable dent in the wall. What the hell was that about?! “Okay, that one hurt. Not gonna lie,” Tony groans and raises his eyebrows at Peter. Since it’s so dark, it’s hard to gauge how angry Tony is. Peter’s heart is beating so fast it feels like it might explode.

“Tony, what in the world is going on?!” Peter jumps at the new voice and snaps his head towards the door. Pepper is in her pajamas and staring at Tony with wide eyes before she turns her attention to Peter. _What, what’s Ms. Potts doing here? She wasn't here before._ “Peter, is everything okay?” she asks carefully.

“I, I don't…he tried to…” Peter looks back over to Tony, who’s standing again and rubbing his shoulder. That's when Peter notices Tony isn't in the Iron Man suit. “It was just a nightmare,” Peter thinks aloud. _I'm a complete idiot! Mr. Stark would never do anything like that, he’s a hero! He isn't Toomes._ His eyes dart over to the dent in the wall and he can practically feel the blood drain from his face.

“It’s okay,” Pepper softly assures as she approaches, taking each step slowly. This wasn't what she was expecting to see when she heard F.R.I.D.A.Y. alert them to Peter being in distress.

“Oh, oh my gosh, Mr. Stark! I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't, I wasn't, I would never-” Peter can't get a coherent thought out. His breathing picks up and heat courses throughout his body. It feels like he's going to burst into flames and he can't stop his hands from shaking. As his hands shake, they're quickly overtaken by a pins and needles sensation.

“No harm done, alright?” Tony attempts to soothe. “But I'm gonna need to to calm down.” His voice is slightly more firm, but Peter can't bear to meet his eyes. _How could I think he’d do something like that? Then kick him into a wall? I'm done for. He hates me and he isn't going to want to see me anymore. He’s going to cut off ties again. Oh no, he’ll…_

“Please don't take the suit, Mr. Stark. Please, please I'm sorry. It was an accident. I'll do better. I'll be better. I won't disappoint you again, I swear.” Peter devolves into full on sobs. He hugs himself and hiccups in between cries, not having the energy to push them back. Warm, gentle arms instantly cradle him into a hug and he can't help but lean into it. He can smell Pepper’s perfume as she gingerly runs a hand through his hair and holds him tightly with the other. Out of all the people he could break down in front of, why did it have to be people he looks up to? He just wants May…

“I am _not_ going to take the suit away. Okay? Not gonna happen again. I swear.” Tony’s tone is strong yet lined with concern. Pepper looks up at Tony, her own eyes glossy as she holds the sobbing teenager close. Tony knows he has to fix this. Peter shakes his head against Pepper’s shoulder, already feeling bad about how his tears have soaked her t-shirt.

“You, you don't understand,” Peter weakly disagrees and tries his best to not think of Homecoming night. He feels like he's going insane.

“Then help me understand.” Tony is dead serious. He doesn't sound annoyed or angry, he genuinely wants to understand. Peter presses his lips together in an attempt to stop crying and slowly nods. Even though he doesn't want to, he unwraps his arms from around Pepper and wipes his damp face.

“Um, Ms. Potts? Can I, can I talk to Mr. Stark alone? Not that, that I don't like you! I’d just feel more comfortable- not that I'm uncomfortable-”

“I understand.” She lays a hand on Peter’s shoulder accompanied by a sweet smile while standing. Before she leaves the room, she gives Tony a look that Peter can't place, but Tony understands. It's the look he gets when they're going to “talk about this later.” Once she’s gone, the silence takes over once more. Tony simply sits on the bed with Peter, leaving a space between them and wondering what in the hell he’s supposed to say to comfort the kid. Neither of them really know where to start. How does Peter explain everything without sounding like a whiny kid? _Spider-Man doesn't whine. Then again, Spider-Man doesn't kick Iron Man or cry in someone's arms…_

“Take your time, kid,” Tony tries to comfort. Peter nods absentmindedly, exhaustion starting to set in. What time is it anyways? He glances at the nightstand and notices that the alarm clock reads 2:11 am. _I can't believe I woke them up in the middle of the night…_

“I wasn't…planning on doing anything that, that night,” Peter begins shakily, trying to recall his thought process. “I was actually excited for Homecoming. My date was someone I had liked for a while, but…” _Toomes_ opened the door and Peter could feel his heart drop. “Toomes turned out to be her dad. He knew that I knew everything he had done, and he said he would kill me,” and everyone he loved, “if I interfered again. Jeez I was so _stupid_. I put everything, everything at risk but I couldn't just let him get away with what he was doing! I did what I thought was right and I don't regret it but-” He grips his hair in between his fingers. Tony doesn't say anything, he just patiently waits for Peter to continue. “But when I went to confront him, he was at a warehouse and he completely played me! I was overly confident and, and not paying attention until it was too late. He didn't hit me _once_ with his wings, but he wasn't trying to hit me. He took out the support columns and it all came down. All of it, Mr. Stark! An entire building and I, I couldn't _move_ and no one could hear me. And I know I was able to get out, but I can't stop thinking about it.” Finally, Peter stops his rambling to let Tony process everything. Peter probably should’ve slowed down or made it more apparent that it isn't Tony’s fault, but he had to get it out or he might not have been able to. Tony tries to absorb all the sudden information; Peter's life being threatened on the one night he was just trying to be a teenager, the kid choosing to stop the bad guy instead of going on a date with a pretty girl, a building almost _crushing him._ How did this kid hold everything in for months by himself?

“Maybe it wasn't my…” Tony searches for the right word, “greatest decision to take the suit away.” He takes in a breath and lets it out slowly. “I didn't want you to think you were invincible just because of some suit. You’re too young to be risking your life. I thought that, without the suit, you wouldn't be as prone to running headfirst into danger. Should’ve known you’d do it anyways. I'm…” It almost sounds like Tony's about to apologize, but he trails off.

“It’s not your fault, Mr. Stark! I know I should've listened to you, you were right. I just couldn't let him go knowing that those weapons would hurt people,” Peter frantically tries to explain.

“I know,” Tony awkwardly pats Peter’s back, “and that’s what makes you a good person.” Peter is too stunned to say anything. A compliment from Tony Stark of all people? The last time he got a compliment from him was about a year ago. After he almost _died_ to save Tony’s jet. “Don't look so surprised kid, I have my moments. Contrary to popular belief, I’m actually a pretty fantastic guy.” Peter can't help but chuckle. Only Tony could find a way in any situation to compliment himself.

“You don't need to make your ego any bigger,” Peter teases with a slight smile.

“You better respect your elders, Short Stack,” Tony fires right back. Peter turns to him and feigns shock.

“I will have you know that being five foot ten inches is the worldwide average for males.” Tony winces overdramatically at Peter's fact.

“I wouldn't be so proud to be _average_ if I were you.” He says the word “average” with distaste before smirking at Peter.

“Not all of us can be billionaires, Mr. Stark.”

“Excuse you,” Tony raises his eyebrows, “I’ve worked very hard for the specific title of genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, so I would appreciate it if you used it.” Peter rolls his eyes with a smile, grateful that the tension has lifted.

“Thank you,” Peter says before he can stop himself.

“No problem.” Tony stands up from the bed and fixes his hair that Peter didn't even realize was messed up. “I’ll call Banner in tomorrow, I'm sure he won't mind considering the circumstances.” Peter’s energy suddenly spikes at the name.

“Dr. Banner?! That’s so awesome! I didn't get to meet him last time you and I teamed up! What’s he like?! Wait, I’ll just meet him tomorrow, so I guess I’ll find out! This is so cool!”

“Kid,” Tony raises his hands in an attempt to calm him “take it down a few hundred notches. We’ll talk it over tomorrow. Of course, Aunt May will have to sign a few papers and-”

“No!” Peter’s heart skips a few beats. Tony looks at him like he has gone insane. “No,” Peter repeats a bit more calmly. “She can't know. If she found out I was almost crushed, she would never let me be Spider-Man again. Like, _ever_. Please. I don't want to put that burden on her.” Tony is immediately skeptical, but slowly nods. He knows the lies about Spider-Man last time ended in a very long, heated conversation with an enraged aunt and him more likely to get tinnitus.

“Fine, but we are going to talk about this,” Tony guarantees.

“Understood, Mr. Stark.”

“Get some sleep. Don't forget, we’re right down the hall.” Peter does his best to keep his face from heating up from embarrassment.

“Got it.” With that, Tony leaves and shuts the door behind him. Peter knows that after all this time he shouldn't leave May in the dark, but she’s already lost someone she loves and he doesn't want to scare her more than she already is. She’s good at hiding it, even though Peter knows that she’s terrified. Terrified of the possibility that he could just not come home one day. He’d be lying if he said he weren't afraid of the same thing, but there are people out there who need Spider-Man. He can't let them down, even if that means he has to go through people like Toomes. He's not going to let anyone lose someone close to them like he has. With a deep breath, he lies back down and hope to stay asleep this time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have Pepper and a soon to be Bruce! So excited to introduce them to you guys and see how you like them! We also might be getting a surprise guest appearance next chapter as well...
> 
> See you all Wednesday! Thank you for reading <3
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	6. Baby Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to dedicate this update to @laurathedemigod for their birthday! Thank you so much for the lovely and encouraging comment, I hope this chapter adds to your day :) Very Happy Birthday to you and all the other April birthdays out there! RDJ's is tomorrow and mine is Friday! I must say, a lot of cool birthdays this month ;)
> 
> We have a fun chapter today with a new appearance! ...Or two. No trigger warnings, just have fun and stay safe!
> 
> Also, how are all the Irondad and Steve stans doing after yesterday's teaser?? I can proudly say that I cried all day yesterday over that framed photo of Tony and Peter. I managed to snag Endgame tickets as well! Anyone else get some? No worries, no spoilers will be posted here :)
> 
> -Kevy

What Peter didn't expect was to be woken up by the blaring music of his Star Wars themed ringtone. With a tired groan, he shifts underneath the covers and blindly reaches for his phone on the nightstand. It takes him almost the entire chorus to grip the phone and answer it.

“H’llo?” he sleepily mumbles into the phone.

“Peter? Why do you still sound half asleep?” May’s voice chirps from the other end. She’s the definition of a morning person and it always kills Peter how peppy she can be after waking up.

“‘Cause you woke me up,” Peter answers as if it’s painfully obvious. Half of his face is still buried in the pillow, making his words come out muffled. May hears that sleepy voice almost every morning and it faintly makes her smile. Peter continues to keep his eyes closed in hopes that he’ll be able to fall back asleep after the call.

“You aren't up yet? It’s almost one thirty in the afternoon.” Peter’s eyes snap open and he shoots up to a sitting position.

“What?! No one woke me up!”

“Honey, relax! It’s the weekend, there's nothing wrong with a little extra sleep. If anything, you've earned it. I just thought Stark would've had you up early. That’s why I was worried when you didn't call.” Peter rubs his face with his free hand.

“Yeah I was expecting he would, too.” He takes a long, deep breath. This is too much excitement for having just woken up. “Thanks for calling May. I'm doing good.” Guilt suddenly floods him as he remembers that he’s practically lying to her all over again.

“That’s my job! I hope you have fun this weekend and be sure to keep me updated. I love hearing you talk about all your sciency stuff.” he chuckles at her enthusiasm and nods.

“I will, May. I love you.”

“I love you too. Have fun!” May hangs up and Peter is free to stretch out his stiff limbs. He checks his phone and unfortunately confirms that it's 1:28 pm.

“Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” he asks as he looks up at the ceiling, even though he knows that’s not where the interface actually is.

“Good morning, Peter,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s disembodied voice responds instantly.

“How come Mr. Stark didn't wake me up?” Peter asks curiously as he combs through his curly bedhead with his fingers.

“Boss wanted you to get as much rest as possible. He told me to not wake you. I’ll notify him that you are awake.”

“No, no. That's alright,” he answers quickly, anxious at the thought of bothering Tony. “I’ll just go see him. Where’s he at?”

“He’s in the workshop with Dr. Banner.” F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s words catch Peter by surprise. Bruce being here isn't much of a shock, but what are both of them doing in the workshop? Shouldn't they be in the Medbay or penthouse or something?

“Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y., I’ll go see them.” He pops his knuckles before pulling the bedsheets off and involuntarily yawning. He knows Tony is right about needing more sleep, but he doesn't like wasting time when he could be working on the suit or out helping people on patrol. He notices his folded Spider-Man suit with the mask placed neatly on top at the foot of the bed. _If Mr. Stark is trying to keep me off patrol, teasing me with the suit isn't the best way to go about it. Either that or he wants me to bring it down to the workshop with me?_ It still doesn't make sense why Bruce would be down in the workshop, but Peter decides to bring the mask with him in case he needs it to dull his senses again. If he needs to come back to get the rest of the suit, he can later.

He slowly opens the guest room door and peeks out to see if there’s anyone else on the floor. The kitchen appears to be empty and he doesn't see anyone sitting on the couch either. That's good, the less people to see him with bedhead the better. Not that he wouldn't absolutely love to meet literally any of the Avengers, but he doesn't want to meet them as Peter Parker. He wants them to see me as an equal, not as a kid. Once he knows the coast is clear, he carefully tip toes into the open and awkwardly holds his elbows. His Spidey Sense would have warned him about anything, but he still feels a bit anxious. He’s in Tony Stark’s building after all. Still, he can't help but gawk at everything from the floor-to-ceiling windows to the intricate decorations.

When he walks into the elevator, F.R.I.D.A.Y. selects the workshop floor for him and he heads down. The lower he gets, the more he can hear the distinct voices of Tony and Bruce through the walls. As the elevator doors open, Peter's face pales. The hologram in the middle of the workshop is displaying the aftermath of the warehouse that Toomes purposefully collapsed on him. It’s a massive pile of broken concrete and bent rebar. Peter quickly realizes that it isn't a still image, but _footage_ from that night. Dust slowly rises from the rubble and he can see a small gap near the center that he knows for a fact he had to crawl out of.

“…and we know Toomes wasn't the one making the tech. Someone else must’ve made the wings, which is considerably concerning since we only have Toomes in custody-”

“Mr. Stark, what’s going on?” Peter questions through a shaky breath, interrupting Bruce's deducing. Tony immediately snaps his head around to look at the teenager, who's on the verge of panic. Peter’s eyes are glued to the hologram. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter can see Bruce quickly press a few buttons that cause the video to disappear.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., I thought I told you to tell me when the kid was awake,” Tony mutters angrily before walking up to Peter to obscure his view. “Nothing, we were just comparing some notes. Nothing for you to worry about,” he assures. Peter instantly moves past him to get a better look at Bruce and the now lack of a hologram.

“Good afternoon, Peter. I'm glad to finally meet you.” Bruce walks up to him, trying to diffuse the tension, and extends his hand. Peter cautiously takes it. Even though Peter’s inner nerd is screaming at him right now, he can't help but feel on edge after seeing the hologram.

“It’s great to meet you, Dr. Banner.” Bruce is in a typical dress shirt and jeans, which are probably his more casual clothes. Then, Peter becomes fully aware that he’s still in the gym sweats he had to sleep in. Great, so much for a good first impression.

“You too, but you can call me Bruce.” Bruce releases Peter’s hand and nervously rubs his own together. “About the, uh, recording, I just needed to determine the best approach and understand what exactly happened that night.” Peter slowly nods in understanding.

“A little heads up would've been nice,” he mumbles as he turns to look back at Tony.

“My thoughts exactly, _F.R.I.D.A.Y._ ,” Tony accuses pointedly.

“It's not my fault you weren't clear on your orders, Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. quips. Peter can't help but smile at her witty tone. All of Tony's AIs tend to bite back eventually. Tony ignores her backtalk and gives his attention back to the situation at hand.

“How you doin’, kid? Sleep better? Eat breakfast?” He leans against a nearby table with arms crossed casually.

“Yeah, sleep was alright.” Peter puts on the best smile he can muster, despite still feeling exhausted. “So, what's the plan? Quick checkup to make sure I'm in tip-top Spidey shape?” He chuckles to try to lighten the mood. Tony raises his eyebrows expectantly before asking again,

“Breakfast?” as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Technically it would be lunch,” Bruce interjects. Tony then turns his pointed gaze on him. “Which doesn't make it any less important,” Bruce quickly adds.

“You two need to work on your co-parenting skills. Or at least get the good cop bad cop thing down.” Peter smirks at them amusedly, a hint of his Spider-Man wit coming out due to his anxiousness.

“No, this is serious time. No jokes,” Tony points a reprimanding finger at him.

“Peter,” Bruce jumps back in, “your metabolism works at such an accelerated rate that you can't afford to be missing any meals. We aren't sure how fast yet, but it could possibly rival that of Steve’s.” Tony visibly tenses at the mention Captain America’s name. They must still be on bad terms. “In other words, you need to constantly eat in order to sustain the amount of exercise you do as Spider-Man.” Peter’s eyes widen in shock and he turns to Tony.

“Don't sweat it. I trust Bruce. He's part of the team after all.” Tony explains. He says “team” with slight distaste.

“It’s not _your_ secret identity to give away. What happened to ‘boundaries are good?’” Peter quotes Tony’s words to Happy after the Toomes fiasco.

“You’re talking to the man who announced his secret identity to a room full of reporters after a week. Relax, I only told Bruce because he’s here to help. Gotta be open and all that,” Tony assures. _That's rich coming from him._

“The point is,” Bruce continues, “we have little to no knowledge about your metabolism, healing factor, and range of all your abilities. If something ever compromised your immune system or injured you, we would have to know at what doses to administer medication.” Honestly, Peter hadn't thought about any of that. He has been Spider-Man by himself for so long that he has learned to take care of his own cuts and bruises. Besides, if he gets any broken bones, they usually heal in a few days or less.

“Sure, better safe than sorry,” he agrees halfheartedly with a shrug. “Then after that I can get back to patrolling, yeah?”

“Baby steps, kid. Minuscule, preferably.” Tony claps a hand on Peter’s shoulder and looks to Bruce. “Whatcha gonna start with, Doc? Because if it’s the needles, then I prefer you to be,” he thrusts his thumb over his shoulder towards the elevator, “a comfortable fifty feet or more away.”

“Mhm, sure, Tony. I have it under control. We need to go up to the Medbay anyways,” Bruce says with understanding. _Since when does Tony have a problem with needles?_ Peter wonders. _Maybe it's the blood?_ Either way, Tony gives Peter an encouraging pat on the shoulder before Bruce and Peter go to the elevator. “Alright, F.R.I.D.A.Y., Medbay please.”

“Of course, Dr. Banner. It’s great to have you back. It’s been a while,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s kind voice acknowledges as the elevator moves upwards.

“Glad to be back.” When the doors open, Bruce leads the way through the relatively silent halls to an empty medical room. It looks like a typical doctor’s checkup room with various medical instruments and a bed covered in a long sheet of paper. “Go ahead and take a seat, Peter.” Bruce smiles kindly and puts on a pair of latex gloves. Peter hops up onto the bed with his hands in his lap.

“This is so cool, Dr. Banner. It really is such an honor to meet you. I’ve been looking up to you for, like, _years_ and now I get to be in the same room as you! It’s seriously surreal! Your writings on gamma radiation were a fun read, for sure.” Peter can't help but ramble. Meeting not one but _two_ of inspirations practically since birth?! Spider-Man might the best thing that has _ever_ happened to him.

“You read that for fun?” Bruce asks, slightly shocked, as he prepares a disposable needle.

“Well, after I was bitten by the radioactive spider, I thought it would be a good idea to look into radiation. Your research was one of the first to pop up.” Bruce preps multiple vials and counts down before gently pressing the hypodermic needle into the crook of Peter’s arm.

“Well, I hope it was at least somewhat helpful.” Bruce smiles to him before switching the now full vial with an empty one.

“Not really…” Peter admits regretfully. “But, in your defense, none of the search results said anything about spider powers,” he quickly adds. Bruce chuckles and nods with understanding.

“I’d be surprised if they had. I’ll need you to put pressure on this when I remove it.” He nods to the needle and Peter can't help but smile proudly.

“I won't need to.” Bruce draws his eyebrows together in confusion, but slowly pulls out the needle nonetheless. A small drop of blood forms where it had been, but doesn't get any larger. Peter wipes the blood to reveal the already healed skin.

“Impressive.” _The Dr. Banner just called me impressive._ Peter swears he’s going to pass out.

“Oh y'know, it's, it’s nothing,” Peter stutters sheepishly. Bruce nods thoughtfully as he sets the vials of blood off to the side.

“We’re going to do a few more types of tests, including a stress test, before I feel comfortable letting you do your activities. But first,” he turns around to grab a paper plate with two wrapped sandwiches and an apple juice box, “get your blood glucose levels back up.”

“Thank you, Dr. Banner!” Peter smiles gratefully and begins to unwrap the first sandwich.

“Bruce,” the doctor insists. Peter knows he was told to call Bruce by his first name, but it feels disrespectful to do that. “While you eat, I wanted to discuss what has happened over the last year.” Peter is slightly caught off guard, but he supposes they’ll have to talk about it sooner or later. Even though he’d prefer later.

“Yeah, sure,” he agrees reluctantly.

“Talking about something like this isn’t really my…specialty, me being a nuclear physicist, but I do want to help you.” Bruce sounds sincere, not that he wouldn't be, but Peter isn’t exactly comfortable reliving the experience. Peter can't help but picture the caved in warehouse speckled with fires.

“I don't think I, not that I don't want to, but just the thought, and, y’know?” The words fall out of his mouth as he tries to find a coherent thought. Bruce sighs before sitting in a nearby chair.

“You need to talk to someone and unless you want to tell another person your identity, I’m your best bet.”

“It’s not that easy, Dr. Banner. It’s not like it’s fun to talk about,” Peter tries to explain, getting slightly frustrated. Why does everyone think it’s easy to just talk about what’s making him feel crazy?

“I understand that.” Bruce remains patient regardless of Peter’s defensive tone. “Believe me, when I did this for Tony it wasn't exactly a walk in the park either.” Peter raises a curious eyebrow.

“What did Mr. Stark need to-” Chills suddenly spread from the base of Peter’s skull and the hair on his arms stand on end. All of his senses become alert to a distant, high pitched whine approaching from outside the Tower a few floors up. “Dr. Banner, something’s wrong.” Peter jumps off the bed to run towards the door when the floor shakes, causing him to stumble slightly and Bruce to shoot up from his chair. “What the hell was that?” Peter questions, even though he probably already knows more than Bruce does because of his Spidey Sense.

“Stay with me.” Bruce ignores his question and gestures for Peter to follow him out the door. Peter follows close behind as he puts on his Spider-Man mask that he has kept a tight hold on.

“Karen, scan the Tower and figure out why-” the building shakes again and they both stumble slightly, “why _that’s_ happening.”

“We’ll take the stairs, just in case. I don't trust the elevators,” Bruce says before opening the stairwell door.

“The penthouse floor has been breached from the outside. There’s now a sizable hole through the side of the building,” Karen informs Peter.

“Oh that’s not good. That’s definitely not good. Dr. Banner, we have a problem up at the penthouse!” They run as fast as they can up the stairs and Peter would give almost anything to have his web-shooters just to get up faster.

“What kind of problem?” Bruce calls back to Peter. Bruce is gauging whether or not he’ll need the Hulk’s help, but he has to make sure Peter stays safe, first and foremost.

“That’s a good question!” Another thunderous crash sends tremors throughout the Tower. “Doesn't sound like a fun one, though!” As soon as Bruce opens the stairwell door to the penthouse, a flash of red flies past them and harshly collides into the wall to their left. The plaster succumbs to the impact and gives way with a loud crash. Peter instantly rushes past Bruce over to the hole that’s now in the wall and sees the Iron Man suit covered in white dust. “Mr. Stark, are you okay?!” The electric blue eyes on the Iron Man mask flicker, but don't go out, and Tony stands.

“Peachy keen, kid. Bruce, get him out of here,” he orders.

“Are you seriously telling me to leave after you were just sent flying through a wall?!” Peter asks incredulously.

“Got it,” Bruce responds, ignoring Peter’s argument.

“You know I can fight! Let me help!” Peter counters. Tony looks down at him, his suit making a mechanical hum with his movement.

“We’re not going to argue. Just listen to me for once. You’re leaving. _N_ _ow,”_ Tony orders. After what the kid just went through, he doesn't want Peter to worry about a fight. A loud whirring cuts into their argument, bringing a gust of wind with it. When Peter looks up, his eyes fixate and widen on the figure that flies into the room through the massive hole in the far wall leading outside. Peter is speechless. His blood instantly runs cold.

“Long time, no see, Pedro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUN
> 
> i love me some drama :)
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	7. Ghost of Homecoming Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First fight sequence/chapter of many to come! I hadn't originally planned to do the amount of fight scenes I did, but I guess it gave me lots of practice. Hope you all enjoy the chapter, it's one of the longer ones! Have fun and stay safe :)
> 
> Also I'm officially TWENTY YEARS OLD hhhhhh I'm in denial send help

Peter first sees the glowing green eyes through the thick smoke. Or is it more like mist? It’s thicker near the floor, almost like a fog, and gets thinner as it reaches the ceiling. Still, it's enough to slightly obscure the rest of the figure until they fly forward and lands Toomes. Here. Peter’s heart pounds so rapidly against his chest that he can hear it in his ears. _No. Don't panic. I need to focus. My web-shooters are in Mr. Stark's guestroom with the rest of my suit. I’ll have to make do with my mask and Karen until I can get to them. But how am I going to get them when they're on the floor above us?_

“Can't say I expected you to be here. I didn't think you and your buddy Stark would be so close after what happened. Certainly not living under the same roof.” Hearing Toomes' voice again makes Peter sick to his stomach. His eyes dart between the unsettling eyes of Vulture’s mask and the metal wings. _This can't be happening. I saw his wings explode. How does he already have another set of them when we haven't even gotten word of him escaping jail?_

“What are you doing here? After everything that’s happened, why come back?” Peter demands with as much confidence as he can muster.

“Pete, are you alright?” Tony cuts in before Toomes can answer.

“How can I be alright when the guy I thought was locked up is attacking the Tower?!” Peter doesn't understand why Tony isn't as on edge as he is.

“I don't want to kill you, but I have nothing against roughin’ you up if it means getting to Stark,” Toomes says smugly. As he speaks, Peter’s senses feel dulled. _The smoke must be getting to me a bit,_ he reasons. _Focus, Spider-Man, focus._ His eyes lock onto the Chitauri gun Toomes is holding at his side.

“Hate to break it to you, but it never ends well for the bad guys hellbent on revenge.” Peter tries to get back into a rhythm. “It’s a boring motive too. Come back when you have some originality.”

“People like _him_ are what’s wrong with the world. Taking jobs from the people who actually work hard and need them. He doesn't care about the working people. He only cares about his money and his suits,” Toomes’ anger flares as he spits the insults at Tony.

“You’re wrong!” Peter fires back at him. Usually he's not quick to anger, but he can't just stand there while Toomes talks bad about Tony. It isn't right! Toomes shrugs.

“I guess we agree to disagree, but I warned you. No one will get in my way. Not even you.” Toomes raises the Chitauri gun and fires a beam of bright violet energy. For once, Peter is taken completely off guard. _My Spidey Sense should have warned me before he tried anything! Why didn't it?!_ As quickly as he can, Peter kicks Tony with both of his feet out of the path of the beam. Peter allows himself fall to the floor and watches as the purple beam passes over him to crash into the wall. The dust clears to reveal another gaping hole next to the other one. _Mr. Stark really needs to work on his reflexes. It didn't look like he even tried to dodge._

“What the hell are you doing?!” Tony demands, staring at Peter from the ground in shock.

“I'm helping! Just like I said I could! I’ll take a ‘thank you’ in writing too.” When the violet energy disappears, Peter effortlessly does a kip-up.

“Peter, listen to me-” Bruce, who is oddly farther away, tries to interject before Toomes speeds towards Peter. Peter flips over him before quickly picking up a chunk of concrete and hurling it at him. _C’mon use your brain, Peter. If his wings are built the same way as the last pair he destroyed, it gives me an advantage of already knowing some of its weak spots._

“Karen, scan his wings and tell me if they're the same model, please! Then-” Peter’s voice cracks as he barely manages to dodge a piece of concrete that Toomes deflects with his wings. _Okay,_ my _reflexes are the ones that are off._ He tells himself to relax and focuses on trying to get to the guest room where his web-shooters are.

“I'm not sure I understand, Peter,” Karen's confused voice replies.

“What do you mean you don't understand? You’ve scanned an entire ferry before! Why should his wings be any different?!” Peter is getting frustrated by the lack of help from literally _everyone_ and on top of that, his senses feel fuzzy. It’s then that he notices he is starting to feel lightheaded. He’s confused, but doesn't have much time to ponder the thought when Toomes charges him again. Toomes' razor sharp wings are extended to reach Peter’s chest, but a head on attack is much easier for him to dodge. Peter arches backwards so that his hands touch the ground and Toomes flies over him. Once Toomes has passed over him, Peter continues his momentum into a back handspring and lands on his feet. “Y’know, I thought we were cool! I tried to stop you, you tried to kill me, I put you behind bars. I’d call that pretty even!” He leaps onto the ceiling and quickly crawls to where the flight of stairs lead up to his floor.

“Peter! Get your ass back down here!” Tony yells and Peter can hear his boosters fire up. When Peter reaches the gap, he pushes himself up to the next floor and runs towards his temporary room. As he almost rips the door off its hinges trying to open it fast enough, Toomes bursts through the floor, creating a cloud of dust and a rain of splintered wood. Peter shuts the door behind him and is _finally_ able to grab his suit. He has never put the suit on faster in his entire career as Spider-Man and instinctively hits the center of his chest to make it fit. One of Toomes’ wings punches through the door, sending splinters flying through the air.

“Sorry! Ocupado!” Peter scrambles to slip on his web-shooters and feels more comfortable now that he’s fully suited up. As soon as his suit is operational, Toomes rips through the remainder of the door. Well, that's not getting fixed anytime soon. So much for privacy. Peter immediately whips around and shoots a Taser Web aimed for the wings’ turbines, but Toomes easily moves out of its path. Peter’s web connects to the far wall and lights up with an impressive electrical current that…doesn't do anything…because he missed. _Man, this is not my day!_

“I thought I remembered you being better than that. I have to say, Pete, I'm a little disappointed,” Toomes mocks, undoubtedly smirking under the high-altitude mask. Toomes propels himself towards Peter with his talons extended. On instinct, Peter shoots his webs to yank the mattress off his bed and uses it as counter momentum to pull himself onto the wall as well as take the damage of Toomes’ attack. Toomes’ talons tear the mattress to shreds. Evisceration isn't exactly on Peter’s to-do list today. Or ever.

“That’s funny coming from the guy I _beat_. If I'm ‘disappointing,’ then what does that make you?” Peter shoots a Splitter Web aimed for Toomes’ wings, but the only thing he webs up is the closet door. “Pretty pathetic, if you ask me,” he answers his own question. He does his best to feign confidence through his humor, but his hands are shaky and he’s sweating under his suit. _You beat him once, you can beat him again. Don't let him get to you. Don't panic. Don't panic._ As Toomes turns around, the turbines on his wings shift their breeze at Peter.

“Pathetic is hanging around a guy like Tony Stark.” Peter’s fists clench. Tony is difficult at times, but Peter knows he’s a great person. _It’s not like I’m any easier to deal with, especially recently. No, don't think like that right now._ Peter webs the bare bed frame and pulls on it with such force that it flips into the air towards Toomes. The Chitauri gun easily cuts through it and the two halves of the metal frame land on either side of Toomes. Peter leaps above Toomes’ head onto the ceiling and uses his Splitter Webs from both web-shooters to jerk the halves of metal towards Toomes’ feet. If he can't land a hit, he can at least try to get Toomes off balance. Unfortunately, Toomes reacts too quickly and is back up in the air in a heartbeat.

“What would Liz think if she knew what you were doing?” Peter has reasoned with Toomes before, sort of, so he can do it again. “You know she wouldn't want you to do this!”

“Do I?” Toomes’ question catches Peter off guard. “My wife got full custody. Court won't let me anywhere near my daughter, and my wife wouldn't even look at me. I've got nothin’ left to lose, Pete.” Toomes speeds to the already open window and crashes through it, leaving behind Peter and a massive hole.

“Peter!” Bruce’s voice reaches Peter’s ears, but it sounds like he’s still downstairs. Peter rushes over to the now mutilated window to see Toomes flying towards the ground. Peter can still catch up to him.

“Just stop and _listen_ to me!” Tony yells. Peter swivels his head to see Tony standing in the splintered doorway.

“He’s heading down there, Mr. Stark! People could get hurt!”

“Kid!” Before Tony is able to continue, Peter is swinging through the demolished window. Peter knows Tony will probably be mad, but he needs to confront Toomes. If he doesn't, he knows he’ll never get better. He has to do this. He has to.

When his lungs are met with the crisp Autumn air, he instantly starts to feel more alert. Being cramped up in the small space with all that mist must have affected him more than he thought.

As he swings from the Tower to an adjacent building, he notices a cloud of smoke just resting on the roof of one of the lower buildings. It obviously isn't smoke from a fire because of the color; it’s a light gray, not black. Last time he checked, Toomes didn't have smokescreens. Then again, he has no way of knowing what Toomes equipped himself with after getting out of prison. Peter swings to the building and gracefully lands on the roof. Well, as gracefully as he usually does. He hears Tony’s repulsors behind him before Iron Man lands beside him.

“Karen, turn on Spider-Man’s air filtration. Filter out as much of the gas as possible.” Gas? But it looks like something made by a fog machine.

“Yes, Boss. Although, you do realize that this suit is not specialized for that purpose.” Karen responds as a setting on Peter’s interface changes.

“I need to stop letting my AI’s have an attitude,” Tony grumbles.

“Gas? What do you mean gas? That’s what all this is? It’s not like any gas I've ever seen,” Peter comments in confusion.

“I’ll catch you up later, kid. We need to work on your _listening_ skills,” Tony's mechanized voice scolds. Peter doesn't understand…how could he need to listen better when he has enhanced hearing? The gas begins to clear enough to show the top of a glass dome. It must be some sort of one way glass because Peter can't see through it. Tony raises his hands and his repulsors charge with a mechanical whine. The Dome Head is wearing dark green body armor and a purple cape to top it off. Various rubber tubes connect from their arms to their back, most likely for them to control the release of the gas.

“Toomes is working with _you_ _?”_ Peter looks Dome Head up and down again in disbelief. “What are you two doing? Starting a villain boy band?” The gas freely flows around the strange man, keeping his lower legs hidden and passing in front of him every few seconds. The man only chuckles deeply. Peter decides to take that as a compliment?

“See, Mr. Stark? My jokes _are_ funny.” Peter crosses his arms with satisfaction.

“I’ve always liked your jokes, Peter,” Karen cuts in.

“Hey, thanks!” Peter can't help but smile and decides to ignore Tony disapprovingly shaking his head.

“Incredibly…disappointing.” The deep voice reverberates underneath the glass dome. “The great Iron Man, Tony Stark, being so quickly tossed aside and his spider sidekick so easily fooled.” _Fooled? Wait a second, did he just call me Mr. Stark’s…_

“I'm not his sidekick! I'm Spider-Man!” Peter holds his arms out as if it’ll help Dome Head recognize him.

“Your name is as underwhelming as your fighting,” the man says, unfazed. Peter looks from him to Tony in disbelief. Is this guy serious?

“Oh yeah? And what kind of name does a Dome Head like you have?” Peter puts his hands on his hips and waits expectantly. He can't help but glance up to keep an eye out for the possibility of Toomes swooping back in. Toomes has to be watching from somewhere.

“I prefer to go by Mysterio,” the man declares. He steps forward slightly, revealing the more intricate parts of his suit including the discrete tanks on his back. The sound of Tony’s repulsors increase at Mysterio’s movement.

“What, so you just take off two letters from ‘Mysterious’ and that makes your alias cooler?” Peter argues as he pops out his empty web canisters and replaces them with new ones from his waist. There’s a beat of silence when he looks back up at Mysterio. “Okay, yeah, that's pretty cool.”

“Let's not insult the villain, capisce?” Tony mutters to Peter. He needs to work on the fight banter with this kid. “What exactly possesses someone to smash into the building of a well-known-alien-ass-kicker?” he asks Mysterio without lowering his hands or taking his eyes off him.

“You can't tell me to not insult him and when you antagonized him. That’s hypocritical,” Peter points out.

“Your arrogance will be your downfall, Stark,” Mysterio ignores their arguing. He has still yet to move, showing how overly confident he is. Peter just hopes that Mysterio’ is either underestimating them or overestimating himself.

“Yeah, that seems to be a pretty popular opinion. Good thing I don't care about your opinion. Chat time’s over.” A high pitched whine sounds before Tony fires his repulsors.

“Oh! We're fighting now!” Peter exclaims as he runs forward and shoots his webs at the ground to propel himself forward. The mist thickens but his suit allows him to see through it relatively unhindered. He shoots a Taser Web aimed for what looks to be important equipment on Mysterio. If it looks like it’s important, it probably is, right? Yeah, that's how that works. As soon as he’s about to celebrate a direct hit, his webbing goes straight through Mysterio and attaches to the roof. "What the heck?" Was that some kind of hologram or something? Once again, they send waves of electricity to absolutely nothing. “Awe come on! That’s the second time today!” Tony's energy beams blow apart chunks of concrete and tar to leave behind impressive indentations. When Peter lands, the Mysterio in front of him phases out of existence.

“Maybe you should focus all that brainpower I’ve heard so much about on your aim, Stark.” Peter snaps his attention towards the sound of Mysterio’s voice to see he has somehow gotten onto of the roof’s stairwell bulkhead. Mysterio is a good ten feet higher than them.

“Words can hurt too,” Tony feigns being offended as his nanotechnology armor reforms his hand into an energy cannon. He fires off a bright blue beam of energy, but Mysterio once again vanishes seemingly into thin air. The beam explodes the stairwell bulkhead, that Mysterio had been standing on a mere second before, into smithereens. He flashes back into existence, this time only a few feet in front of Tony. When Peter sees that Mysterio’s facing away from him, he takes the opportunity to shoot a Web Grenade without hesitation. The webbing expands when it makes contact with Mysterio’s back and wraps around him, pinning his arms to his sides. Tony aims both his repulsors at the restrained Mysterio, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. “Nice work, Underoos. Now,” Tony turns his full attention to Mysterio “who decides to screw a fishbowl on their head and attack the tower of the most armed and powerful Avenger?” Peter tilts his head and hears his mask’s mechanical eyes narrow with his own.

“Are you sure? I mean, Mr. Thor’s pretty indestructible. Y’know, being a literal god and all.” He flicks his wrist so that the empty web cartridge he used for the Web Grenade pops out and he replaces it with a fresh one. Tony lifts his head slightly so that his glowing eyes almost seem to glare at Peter. “Not that you aren't cool and powerful and stuff! I mean you're, you’re Mr. Stark!” Peter frantically stumbles over his words to try to explain himself. Mysterio’s deep chuckle distracts him from his momentary panic and Tony’s repulsors glow brighter.

“Aren't you _superheroes_ supposed to be all about teamwork?” Mysterio says “superheroes” with such distaste that Peter can't help but flinch. “What I do respect, though, is how you all make a big production out of everything. Instead of worrying about how you rank, you might want to worry about me.” Gas starts to flow from nozzles in Mysterio's boots and Peter instinctively stands on his tiptoes to see Tony better.

“Uh, Mr. Stark?” Peter calls anxiously.

“Hate to burst your literal and figurative bubble, but none of your gas will get through this suit. Speaking of which, I wouldn't try anything again unless you want the bubble on your head popped,” Tony threatens. Since Mysterio doesn't seem to be extraterrestrial, like most of the bad guys the Avengers have fought, Tony can't exactly start with blowing heads off.

“Who said the gas was for you?” Mysterio challenges. Peter can slightly see some sort of liquid flowing from Mysterio’s shoulders and onto the webbing. The liquid actually starts _eating_ through the webbing like some kind of abrasive.

“Mr. Stark! He's using it as a smokescreen! He’s gonna-” Mysterio breaks free from the webbing before Peter can finish. How did he do that?! Tony fires his repulsors, but Mysterio disappears into the smoke along with the beams of energy. “Oh, that definitely changes things…” Peter mumbles, slowly backing up and scanning the open area. Tony flies into the air to try to get a better viewpoint from the air.

“Keep those spider senses dialed up!” he orders through the comms.

“Working on it! Droney, I want you to scope out the smoke and report any visuals.” Droney detaches from Peter’s chest and looks at him before flying off into the smoke. Peter stands with his feet apart and his hands out, ready for any oncoming attack. “Karen, can you allow me to, like, see heat signatures?”

“Sure thing, Peter. Activating infrared vision.” Peter’s sight is overtaken by mostly blues and green aside from Tony’s bright red repulsors. Besides that, he doesn't see any other heat signatures front of him. Chills prickle his neck and he quickly whips around, only to be bombarded with a full screen of overwhelming oranges and reds.

“Off! Off! Off!” he frantically tells Karen as he dodges a speeding punch aimed for his face. Karen turns off the infrared vision and Peter can see normally again. “Over here!” he yells to Tony through the comms before having to block Mysterio’s forearm. Gripping the arm, Peter twists it behind Mysterio’s back and tries to force him to the ground. However, Mysterio is able to expertly twist out of the hold and swipes Peter’s feet out from under him. Peter's back hits the cement with a thud.

“Kid, all I can see is Spider-Man after Spider-Man and countless Mysterios. I can't tell which is you,” Tony’s voice fills his ears.

“What?!” He rolls out of the way before Mysterio can punch him through the roof. The concrete cracks around Mysterio’s metal coated fist.

“I can't just play elimination and risk hitting you Pete or opening fire on a public building. Infrared isn't working long range either,” Tony informs Peter before the teen can suggest it. “It’s some kind of infrared smokescreen. I need you to get out of it.”

“Easier said than done!” Mysterio blocks all of Peter’s incoming attacks, but Peter does the same to Mysterio’s. _How is this guy keeping up with me?_ Neither of them manage to land a single hit and Mysterio doesn't allow Peter so much as a spare moment to press his web-shooters. Finally, Peter is able to spot an opening and jabs Mysterio in the stomach, then uses his Rapid Fire webs to coat the front of his glass dome in webbing. Without missing a beat, he jumps up and forcefully brings his heel down on Mysterio’s glass helmet. Peter doesn't so much as crack it. His heel instantly throbs and he sucks in a breath before using Mysterio’s chest as a platform to jump back. “Okay that one hurt, that one hurt.” Peter shakes out his foot, which becomes the least of his worries when his Spidey Sense screams at him. He only manages to look up in time to see Mysterio’s fist fly into his face. Mysterio’s blow sends Peter flying into a more dense area of the smoke.

“Spider-Man!” Tony’s slightly panicked tone reverberates over the comms. Peter stretches out his jaw and blinks a few times, but he has definitely had worse head trauma than this.

“I’m-” Peter’s words are cut off by a pressure on his throat. Mysterio looms over Peter and the webbing that once obscured his vision has been chemically removed. Peter grips Mysterio’s wrist where a nozzle is and desperately tries to pry his hand off. But he’s panicking. He can't breathe and it feels like he's being crushed all over again. He's pinned. Mysterio raises a single finger and quietly shushes Peter, then points to his left. Peter can't help his eyes from traveling to where Mysterio’s pointing and sees Tony land on the roof. Tony is outside the cloud of smoke and kneels beside…Peter? _Oh god, it's an illusion of me lying on the ground,_ Peter realizes with a sense of dread. The illusion of Peter is laying on the roof, unmoving. Tony holds out his hands, hovering them over the illusion of Peter as if he doesn't know what to do. His faceplate lifts.

“It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. You're okay, I promise,” Tony whispers. God, how could he have let this happen to Peter? He’s supposed to protect him, look after him. He’s only sixteen. _Sixteen._ How is he supposed to fix this? He wants to pull off the kid’s mask to see if he’s okay, but he can't move. His muscles are tense as he tries to force himself to do _something._

Peter can barely hear Tony’s hushed, but shaking voice. Mysterio should've just ripped Peter’s heart out. Peter’s grip tightens around Mysterio’s wrist, which dents the metal. Mysterio turns back towards him and Peter immediately kicks him off.

“Mr. Stark! It's an illusion!” Tony’s head snaps up in Peter’s direction. He instantly rises to his feet and lowers his faceplate. He’s able to use his shoulder-mounted missile launchers to target Mysterio, who’s just getting to his feet. Missiles are fired from Tony's shoulders, but they never reach their target. Mysterio raises a hand and, without losing their momentum, the missiles somehow bend away from him. Instead, they make their way towards Peter. “Whoa!” Peter quickly drops to the ground and the missiles fly over him. When he looks behind him, he can see the missiles curve midair to race towards him again. _Seriously?!_

Peter shoots a web at a broken off slab of concrete to his left and flings it in front of the missiles’ path. They crash through the slab of concrete, blowing it to pieces, but aren't stopped. But he knows that should’ve stopped them! He only has enough time to cover his head and squeezes his eyes shut before…nothing. The explosion doesn't come. He peeks through his arms to see no sign of the missiles. The chunk of concrete he had tried to use as a shield is on the ground in one piece. _Crap, I should've known it wasn't real. My Spidey Senses didn't go off._ He was so caught up in the adrenaline rush that the possibility of it being an illusion didn't even occur to him. He hops to his feet as fast as he can and spots Tony just in time to see him punch Mysterio’s glass helmet with such force that he successfully cracks it with his metal fist. It isn't shattered, but it’s better than what Peter could do with his unarmored fist.

Tony then fires a single repulsor to send Mysterio flying backwards. Mysterio crashes into the pile of rubble that was once the stairwell bulkhead. There’s a dark blast mark across his chest, but he still manages to stand. With the simple rise of his arms, the concrete and wood around him lifts and flies off the side of the building. _The rubble could hit bystanders,_ Peter realizes in horror.

“I got it!” Peter yells before propelling himself with my webs to the edge of the roof. He jumps off and shoots a web at the top corner of the building to swing to the side of the falling concrete. His heart drops when he sees people on the sidewalk looking up at the roof where the fight is and the falling debris. Most of them look terrified and some are even recording with their phones. “Look out!” he shouts, getting their attention. He shoots a Splitter Web with his free web-shooter and pulls two bystanders out of harm’s way. When he lets go of the web tethered to the roof, he sends two more Splitter Webs to prevent the remaining four people from being crushed and lands on the pavement.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you, dumbass?!” a man yells heatedly at him.

“I’m saving people!” Peter doesn't usually let people get under his skin, but he has had a rough day and the lack of appreciation is really getting on his nerves. Everyone’s staring at them with their phones raised.

“From _what_ _?!”_ the man demands, looking at Peter like he’s the biggest idiot on the planet. Peter gestures to the sidewalk right next to them.

“The concrete that almost crushed-” he freezes when he looks over and sees the pavement untouched. _No no no, that couldn't have been an illusion! It, it looked so real!_ He shakes his head in frustration.

“Go the fuck back to Queens. Let Iron Man do his job,” the man spits, a few people mumbling in agreement.

“Thanks. Hope you have a good day too, buddy,” Peter mumbles, trying to be polite. He shoots a web from both of his web-shooters and makes his way back to the top of the building. When he reaches the roof, the smoke and gas are beginning to dissipate. Tony’s mask is raised and Mysterio is nowhere in sight. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” Peter holds his head in his hands and takes a deep breath.

“I’m going to double check the area. I’ll meet you back at the Tower afterwards,” Tony informs. Peter doesn't even have the energy to argue, so he just nods.

“Let me know if you find him.” Tony nods before his faceplate lowers and he flies off. Peter sighs and rolls his shoulders.

“How was your weekend, Peter?” he talks to himself as he shoots a web to the adjacent Stark Tower. He lazily swings over. “Oh it was great! Hung out with Mr. Stark, got my butt kicked by a dude wearing a fishbowl,” he sticks to a pane of glass and starts crawling up to the gaping hole that leads to the penthouse “all in all, a great time.” He jumps inside the hole, doing his best to avoid the exposed rebar and shards of glass. “Couldn't have gone any better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect some tags to be added when the next chapter goes up on Wednesday! For reasons that I'm sure were pretty evident ;)
> 
> Fair warning and kinda disclaimer: I'm basing this Mysterio's personality and backstory more so off of the Quentin Beck from the comics, not necessarily Jake Gyllenhaal's upcoming rendition of Mysterio. Still I'm super excited to see his version in FFH :) Thank you all for reading!
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	8. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I added some tags so be sure to double check them! Little bit of fluff in this chap, so enjoy it while it lasts :) Also a bit of Irondad...
> 
> Thank you all so much for the kudos and feedback!! Every comment honestly makes my day and you have no idea how much it's appreciated!
> 
> Have fun with this chapter and stay safe!
> 
> -Kevy

Bruce and Peter sit on the edge of the overly long, pleather couch as Bruce looks over his glasses to inspect Peter’s heel. Peter is back in casual clothes with his mask still on and his suit on the seat next to me. It’s been about a half hour since he got back to the Tower and he can't stop glancing back to the gaping hole in the wall that Toomes must have created.

“You alright, Peter?” Peter whips his head around to look at Bruce.

“Hm? Oh! Yeah, yeah I'm good. I'm not in any pain.” Peter rolls his slightly sore ankle to prove his point. “See?”

“Rolling your ankle doesn't prove whether or not your heel is shattered. We’re going to do an x-ray once we get back to your check-up,” Bruce insists, feeling uncomfortable about the fact that he still doesn't know enough about Peter’s healing factor. Peter’s stomach starts to twist with anxiety. He doesn't want to be any more of a burden than he already is.

“It’s really not a problem, Dr. Banner. I mean, I’ve been thrown through concrete walls and dragged behind a moving van and flown on the outside of a plane. This is nothing!” Peter tries to reason with him. Bruce looks anything but convinced, shocked if nothing else.

“Jeez kid, how old are you?” he asks in disbelief. Peter looks at his hands and nervously rubs them together.

“Sixteen,” he mumbles. Bruce shakes his head and takes a deep breath.

“Tony, what were you _thinking?”_ he mutters.

“No no no! I agreed to it! It wasn't Mr. Stark’s fault, I swear. It was my choice and I don't regret it.” Bruce eyes Peter cautiously, but decides to drop the subject.

“I still want to do the x-ray,” Bruce says as he removes his glasses. “Before that, we’ll eat some lunch when Tony gets back.” Peter lowers his foot so he can stand and stretch.

“Um, can I ask you something?” he inquires awkwardly.

“Of course.” Bruce’s full attention is back on Peter.

“How come you didn't Hulk out and help us? Not saying you weren't helpful! I'm sure you're always helpful, being a super genius doctor and all. Not that you aren't helpful as the Hulk too, I'm just saying in general, as in, like, y'know?” _Great vocabulary, Peter. Why don't you ramble and annoy another genius. This is why they always treat you like a kid._ Bruce smiles at Peter’s nervous rambling, finding it endearing.

“Not a problem, I know what you mean. I figured out pretty quickly that the infiltrator, who you've told me calls himself ‘Mysterio,’ was using a hallucinogenic gas of some sort. Based on your…reactions, I decided it would be better for the Hulk to not be under the influence of said hallucinogens. If he hallucinated or believed in the illusions, he could have gone on a rampage.” Peter nods his head in understanding, but something doesn't sit right about what Bruce said.

“What do you mean by my ‘reactions?’ I thought I acted pretty rationally considering the man who literally haunts my nightmares showed up out of thin air.”

“Well…why don't we discuss that when Tony’s here. In the meantime, you asked me a question so now I get to ask you one.” Peter smirks and raises an eyebrow.

“I don't think I agreed to those terms,” he challenges.

“Good thing I'm the one who gets to make the rules.” Bruce genuinely smiles before continuing. “How come you still have the mask on?” Peter’s heartbeat starts to pick up and he bites the inside of his lip.

“Well, um, y'see,” he takes a deep breath to gather his thoughts “sometimes I get sensory overload and the mask helps to kinda tune things out. Light isn't as bright, sounds don't make my ears reverberate, smells aren't as harsh, stuff like that.” He shrugs in an attempt to make it seem like it's not such a big deal. It really isn't a problem, just inconvenient at times. Bruce narrows his eyes in thought. “But, but it’s probably fine now! I’ll take it off,” Peter assures him and slowly slips the mask off. The hole in the wall is causing more light to filter into the room than normal and Peter has to squint to allow his eyes time to adjust.

“How do you feel?” Bruce whispers, just in case Peter’s ears are sensitive. Peter blinks a few times until his eyes don't burn.

“I’m good, no problem. It’s worse when I’m panicking, then everything goes into overdrive,” he laughs nervously. Bruce’s eyes slowly widen, as if everything in the world suddenly makes sense.

“Of course! When people are in a stressful, life-or-death situation, they’re autonomic sympathetic nervous system kicks in with the fight-or-flight response. Their epinephrine gives them the necessary energy to either fight or run. You, being Spider-Man, are in a life threatening situation _every other night_ _._ Your senses are already dialed up without the added adrenaline, which is probably what puts them into hyperdrive. We don't even know how much epinephrine and norepinephrine your body produces yet.” He seems to be switching between talking to Peter and thinking out loud.

“That would make sense. I haven't really considered it like that.” It kind of bothers Peter that there could be other things caused by the spider bite that he still doesn't know about.

“We’ll get everything sorted out,” Bruce comforts with a small smile. Peter returns his smile and nods. After that, Peter starts to hear a dull rumble approaching the Tower. He instantly recognizes it as the Iron Man thrusters and hops off the couch to wait by the debris riddled hole in the Tower. Bruce follows him with a confused look, but catches on a few moments later when he's able to hear the thrusters too. Tony quickly comes into view and lands inside with the clank of his metal covered feet.

“So? Any news?” Peter questions eagerly as the nanobots begin to deconstruct Tony’s Iron Man suit.

“Nothing. Absolutely dick diddly. Nothing left behind and nothing to follow. Spent almost an hour just flying through five square blocks. It felt like I was chasing a damn ghost.” The suit is gone by the time he finishes his explanation, obviously exasperated. Peter rakes a hand through his slightly damp hair. _If only I had been stronger or faster, then we could've beaten that guy. He didn't even have any powers._

“Okay **,** okay, what about Toomes?” He hasn't seen Toomes since he swung out the window. “Is there, like, some way we can track his tech or figure out what happened at the prison or something?” Peter tries to think of all the possibilities in order to get them brainstorming. He just wants to be productive after how much he botched that fight. Tony glances to Bruce, then looks back to Peter. Tony opens his mouth, but doesn't seem to know what he wants to say. How is he supposed to tell Peter? “Mr. Stark?” Peter prompts.

“Kid, Toomes…he wasn't, he wasn't exactly…here.” Tony stumbles through his sentence, but manages to keep his voice tight and even. Peter draws his eyebrows together, not quite understanding what Tony’s getting at.

“But, I _saw_ him and I _felt-_ _”_ Peter cuts himself off, realization slamming into him so quickly that the wind is almost knocked out of him. He _didn't_ feel anything. He never felt anything because Toomes never touched him. “Wait, wait no. He couldn't have been an illusion. He, he tore up the door and, and he made a huge hole in the wall! That blast he shot could have, could have killed you, Mr. Stark!” He grips his hair with both his hands and tries to control his breathing before he spirals into panic.

“It’s okay, Pete. We’ll fill you in on everything, but first you need to eat and calm down.” Tony tries to keep his voice gentle yet insistent as he slowly walks closer to Peter.

“No! I'm tired of not being in control of my own life! I don't want nightmares and I don't want people like Toomes controlling my thoughts! I can't…I can't do it!” Rogue tears slip out of Peter’s eyes, which only make him more angry. _I'm not sad and I'm not weak! Why am I crying?!_ Tony lightly places his hands on Peter’s shoulders, unsure of what to do to help a crying kid. All of this is way out of his depth. Peter can't bare to look his mentor in the eyes, not when he feels like such a kid. _It isn't his job to babysit me._

Tony sighs, noticing how Peter is desperately trying to hold himself together. Finally, Tony decides screw it, Peter needs him. He stiffly pulls Peter into his chest. He's not the best at hugs or any kind of physical reassurance, but it's what Peter needs so he's going to do it. Peter clenches his teeth in an attempt to stop the tears from falling, but it only makes them come faster. _Be strong. Stop crying in front of Mr. Stark, you're embarrassing yourself._

“Let it out, bud,” Tony whispers. That's all it takes for Peter to stop holding back broken cries of frustration. It isn't long before he has relaxed into Tony’s hug. He’s doing his best to bite back sobs.

“I'm tired of being such a mess,” he mumbles into Tony’s jacket. “I don't want to feel damaged. I want to feel okay.” _Great, Peter, whine like a five year old why don't you._

“I know. I want you to be, too.” Tony tightens his arms around Peter, hoping it provides some sort of comfort. Peter just stands there, ever so slightly leaning into the hug. He doesn't make an attempt to hug him back, he instead just enjoys the comfort of Tony’s strength. _Uncle Ben used to give hugs like this,_ he distantly thinks. _The kind that just envelops you and makes you feel safe. The kind that you never want to end_ …and Peter still pulls away. He wipes some stray tears that weren't soaked up by Tony's jacket and crosses his arms in a vain attempt to keep the same sensation of comfort. It doesn't help.

“Sorry. Food, um, food sounds good,” he mumbles, barely above a whisper. He stares at his bare feet as he curls his toes under and sniffles.

“I’ll start on that,” Bruce quickly volunteers, eager to break the tension. He walks towards the bar to look through the mini fridge. “What to you feel like? There’s a sandwich…of some sort, an apple juice, and…that’s it… Tony, when was the last time you restocked this?” He turns around to face the two, holding a wrapped, floppy sandwich and a juice box.

“It’s a bar, Bruce. Bars aren't made to be under eighteen friendly. Let’s go up to the kitchen.” Tony fixes his jacket’s cuff and walks towards the elevator. Bruce and Peter both follow him and they all go up a floor. The kitchen is across from Tony’s bedroom and Peter’s guestroom. It’s a simple kitchen, considering they're in a billionaire’s building, but it’s still half the size of Peter and May’s entire apartment.

“Whatcha feel like, Pete?” Tony asks as he walks up to the massive refrigerator. By the fridge is a small TV mounted on the wall. _Well, small compared to the 105 inch flat screen TV in the living room,_ Peter notes. _This one is more like forty inches at most._ He shrugs his shoulders, trying to not be picky.

“I’m down for anything. Food is food, right?” When you live in a low income household, you learn to eat whatever’s put in front of you. Not that May doesn't work hard to get them food and everything. Money is just…tight sometimes.

“That’s not gonna cut it. How about pizza? It’s only cheese, but we can add some extra toppings if you want,” Tony suggests. He wants to engage the kid, help him feel better. He hates to see Peter this upset, he's just not sure how to fix it.

“Pizza is fine if it’s alright with you guys.” Actually, pizza sounds fantastic, but Peter doesn't want to make it about himself.

“It’s not a problem with me,” Bruce agrees as he walks over to the TV. He turns it on and starts flipping through the channels to find something interesting for them to watch.

“Pizza it is!” Tony announces as he pulls two boxes of pizza out of the freezer and sets them down on the countertop. “What do you want to add? I have more cheese, pepperoni, salami, bacon, olives-”

“Do you have pineapple?” Peter asks eagerly as he helps by opening the boxes. Tony slowly turns around to look at Peter with judgemental eyes and drawn eyebrows.

“You like _pineapple_ on _pizza?”_ he questions Peter with distaste.

“Of course I do! You don't?” Peter questions as he pulls both of the frozen, cheese pizzas out and starts to unwrap them.

“Fruit doesn't belong on pizza,” Tony says with finality. Peter can't help but smile and rest his elbow on the counter smugly.

“Then _technically_ you can't put olives on either.” He smirks proudly and Tony eyes the glass jar of olives in his hand. He narrows his gaze at Peter before reaching back into the fridge and tossing a can of diced pineapple to him. Peter smiles triumphantly and catches it with ease. He use the easy open tab to peel it open and bounces on his heels as he happily sprinkles the pineapple pieces onto his pizza. Some torn up slices of bacon are added, too.

“Someone sure is cheery over some pineapple,” Tony comments as he places olives and mushrooms on half of his pizza.

“Someone sure is a sore loser,” Peter quips back at him. Tony chuckles and shakes his head before adding some pepperoni. With his pizza topped to perfection, Peter slides it into the oven and waits for Tony.

“Bruce, what do you want on your half?” Tony asks without taking his eyes off the pizza.

“Pepperoni is fine. Don't you have anything good to watch? All you have are a bunch of news stations and reruns of M*A*S*H,” Bruce complains as he continues to press the same button on the remote.

“There’s a 110 inch, flat screen TV in the next room. Do you really think I'm worried about getting the extra channels for a kitchen TV that hardly anyone uses?” Tony easily fires back. Peter was close; 110 inches, not 105. It’s insane to think that Tony has more TVs than he could count when Peter and May have one TV in their whole apartment and it isn't even a flat screen. To be fair, he has quite a bit more square feet than they do.

“Not like you can't afford it,” Bruce reminds with a slight smile.

“Touché,” Tony relents. Peter notices that the only time Tony ever concedes is when he’s simultaneously bragging about himself.

“You shouldn't give in that easily, Mr. Stark. It’s not-” Peter stops when the mention of Spider-Man from the TV catches his attention, but Bruce continues to change the channels. “Dr. Banner, can you go back to that news station please?” Peter walks up to the TV as Bruce listens and clicks back. A shaky, blurred video being shot from the ground shows the building from this afternoon. The angle only allows them to see Iron Man in the air circling the building, but not what’s happening on the rooftop. Every now and then, they're able to see Spider-Man pop up only to disappear again. Suddenly, Peter watches himself swing off the roof towards the ground where the video is being recorded.

“Bruce, maybe no TV right now.” Tony clears his throat and Bruce raises the remote to turn it off.

“Wait,” Peter interrupts. He wants to see this. The video shakes as Spider-Man sweeps up the person recording. _I should've known that they were just illusions. My Spidey Sense would have told me otherwise. I feel like an idiot, mediocre at the very least,_ he berates himself. When the video refocuses, it’s aimed at Spider-Man and the man who yelled at him. Then, the TV shuts off. Peter quickly looks to Bruce, but the doctor raises his hands to prove it wasn't him. F.R.I.D.A.Y. must have turned it off.

“The world is depressing enough as it is. We don't need the news adding to it,” Tony comments. Peter is about to argue when he hears his ringtone sounding from the guest room.

“I’ll be right back. Don't let my pizza burn.” He looks pointedly at the two.

“We’re geniuses,” Tony states matter-of-factly and opens both his arms, like he has done many times before, to let people bask in his glory. Peter playfully rolls his eyes and turns to go to his room, but stops dead in his tracks. The realization suddenly hits him with full force that his guestroom door is open and intact. _Undamaged_. He saw Toomes obliterate that door with his own eyes. “Kid?” Tony prompts warily, noticing Peter’s sudden halt.

“The, the door. It’s…there.” Peter can't pry his eyes away from the door and Tony walks towards him. Before Tony can reach his side, Peter walks into the room and looks through the doorway. There aren't slashes in the mattress, the window isn't shattered, and the bed frame doesn't have a scratch on it. The mattress is on the other side of the room from when he used it as a shield and the bed frame still has webbing attached to it, but that's it. The room is pristine. “It was all a hallucination…wasn't it?” he asks, his voice low.

Tony doesn't know what to do. He didn't want Peter beat himself up about it, but he knew the kid would figure it out. He sighs and waits a few moments before deciding what to say.

“Yeah…it was. The gas Mysterio released was some kind of hallucinogenic drug. Bruce is working on figuring out the components.” Peter can tell that whenever Tony gets into an emotional situation, he tends to lean towards science and logic to help him through it.

“He was right in front of me. I didn't even think about how he never managed to touch me, let alone land a hit.” _Then again, wasn't trying to,_ Toomes’ words echo throughout Peter’s head. “I still haven't learned anything since then. I'm not getting anywhere. I should've known when Karen wasn't able to scan him. There wasn't anything for her to scan.” He rubs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. There’s no way he’s going to break down in front of Tony for the third time in under twenty-four hours.

“It wasn't your fault. We’re going to figure everything out and we’re going to do it together this time. I won't…” Tony pauses to consider his words. If he says it, there’s no going back. If he shows how much he…cares, he can't just press the undo button. “I won't let anything happen to you again. Alright?” Tony lets out a slow breath when Peter smiles slightly and nods.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.” Peter’s phone rings again, quickly refocusing his attention on it. It’s still on the nightstand in one piece where he left it. When he flips it over to see the caller ID, he realizes that fighting Mysterio and hallucinating Toomes are the least of his worries. He nervously accepts the call.

“Hey, Aunt May…”

“Well, nice knowin’ ya, kid.” Tony immediately steps out of the room and gingerly shuts the door behind him. _Wimp._

“Peter, I saw what happened on the news!” she begins frantically.

“May, I'm fine. I promise! Not a scratch on me, honest,” Peter quickly tries to assure her before she starts to panic.

“I called six times! You were fighting some, some… _thing_ on a rooftop! With Stark! What if you ran out of webs? You could have fallen! And why was that man yelling at you? Does he have _any_ idea what you do for people?! How many people you save?! He had no right-”

“May!” She stops and Peter hears her heavy breathing on the other end. “I'm sorry I didn't answer. Mr. Stark and I were making some pizza and I didn't have my phone on me. I'm not hurt in any sense of the word; physically or emotionally.” Peter keeps his voice gentle and even. There’s a moment of silence before she responds.

“Good. Okay, but why was he yelling at you? All you were doing was trying to help move people away. They shouldn't be standing so close anyways. Kids these days are going to get themselves killed just to get a viral video.” May will always be his biggest fan and that’s what keeps Peter going.

“I kinda made a mistake? I thought that, uh, they were going to be crushed. It’s hard to explain, but I’ll fill you in when I get home. I don't want us to get into it over the phone.” Peter knows how much she worries, so he’d rather be there in person to reassure her. Telling her he hallucinated and got tricked by illusions wouldn't be the best way to go about it right now.

“Alright…” May doesn't sound too convinced, but she lets it go nonetheless. “Just stay safe, please. I’m still trying to get used to this whole superhero thing,” she laughs nervously. “I can't watch anything happen to you, especially not on the news, Peter.” Anxiety starts to settle in Peter's stomach at the thought of causing her so much worry. May has every right to be worried, when Peter goes out every night risking his life for the greater good when the “greater good” to her is making sure her nephew lives a long life.

“I know,” Peter agrees softly. “You won't.”

“You're damn right I won't. Stark will have to answer to me if anything happens to you.” May's voice shakes slightly and Peter knows better than to think she isn't dead serious. Peter's phone starts to buzz and he pulls it from his ear to see Ned’s selfie lighting up the screen. He chuckles at the thought of their matching caller IDs.

“Ned’s calling, but I'll keep you updated. I love you,” he says with every ounce of his being. Why does he feel so guilty?

“I love you too. Bye.” With that, he accepts Ned’s incoming call.

“Dude! You’re on the news!” Ned screams through the phone, causing Peter to wince. “You were jumping and swinging and Iron Man was doing the pew pew thing with his hand lasers! And and we couldn't even see what you were fighting, man! What was it?! An alien invasion?! A new villain?!” Ned shouts excitedly into the phone and Peter has to hold it away from his ear, but he smiles anyways.

“Do you actually want me to answer your questions or do you prefer yelling?” Peter laughs.

“Sorry, sorry, go ahead!”

“We fought a new villain today,” Peter tries his best to contain the excitement in his voice.

“No way!”

“Yeah! And he had, like, a glass helmet on his head and I was like ‘Dude, what are you wearing a fishbowl for?’ and he tried to play it cool but I can tell that I hurt his feelings.” Ned squeals on the other end before speaking.

“I can't believe you upset a supervillain! That's, like, the epitome of badassery!” he responds in awe.

“He didn't have any powers though! Instead he had these illusions and hallucinogenic gas! It was super weird.”

“Woah, _dude!_ Are you okay?! Did he gas you?!” Peter can't tell if Ned is worried or curious, but Peter can't blame him for either.

“Yeah, but I handled it. No problem. And get this, he calls himself ‘Mysterio.’” They both laugh until Ned starts to talk again.

“Really? _Mysterio_? Villains have lost all their creativity,” he says as if it’s mankind’s greatest loss. Peter laughs more as he shakes his head.

“It really is a shame, isn't it? They need to sort out their priorities,” he adds sarcastically.

“Yeah! We want bad guys with standards!” They both burst into laughing fits again. Peter’s sides and cheeks hurt from laughing so much but he can't stop. “I'm glad you’re okay though, it looked intense. Obviously not too intense for the Spider-Man though.” He can practically hear the smile in Ned’s voice. He loves that Ned and May are his biggest fans. Before he can respond, he hears a high pitched, shrill beeping. He groans loudly and lets his head dip forward in frustration. “What’s that noise?”

“Smoke alarms. Jeez, I leave them alone for two minutes,” Peter mutters. “I have to go, but I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“See ya, Peter. Don't let Avengers Tower burn down,” Ned teases.

“I’ll do my best, Ned. See ya!” Peter ends the call and jogs out of his room only to see the kitchen enveloped by smoke. Bruce is holding the oven door for Tony as he pulls out a smoking pan. Tony flings it into the sink and instantly turns on the faucet.

“So, how’s the pizza going, _geniuses?”_ Peter teases them with a confident smirk. Bruce shuts the oven and looks over to Peter.

“I think we set the temperature too high. In theory, it should've cooked it faster,” Bruce admits. Peter can't help bursting into laughter, but he tries to muffle it with his hand.

“Everyone likes it crispy. And if they don't, they're lying,” Tony concludes as he crosses his arms. If they can't even cook a pizza, this is going to be an interesting weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	9. Busted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you all so much for the support with this story :) Luckily, not even close to done with the story! Also, I might be working on another, shorter story,,,debating on how far I wanna go with it. Keep an eye out!
> 
> This chapter is a bit of a breather! We'll get into some more drama and angst next chapter ;) Have fun and stay safe!
> 
> -Kevy

After trying to salvage the other burnt pizza, they collectively agreed to order pizza instead. F.R.I.D.A.Y. made the call for them and, probably because the order was in Tony Stark's name, it got there in under ten minutes. They ended up leaving the TV off to eat in peace and quiet without the news causing any problems again. Peter tries not to think of all the people seeing the news and believing that Spider-Man can't do his job right.

“Why didn't we just order pizza to begin with?” Peter asks after swallowing another bite of his pineapple bacon pizza. “It's not like you need to save money or anything like that.” When he’s finish talking, he's already taking another bite. He's way more hungry than he realized.

“I thought it would be a ‘fun bonding experience.’” Tony uses air quotes. Peter brings his eyebrows together in confusion. _That doesn't sound like something Mr. Stark would come up with._ Bruce stops eating just to stare at Tony skeptically. “At least, that’s what Pepper told me,” he adds with a shrug. That makes a lot more sense. Bruce hakes his head and chuckles.

“Well, after we’re done _bonding_ , we should head up to the Medbay to give you both a once over and finish Peter’s checkup,” he urges. Peter starts on his next piece of pizza and nods in agreement.

“Pizza first,” he mumbles through his full mouth.

“Alright kid, just don't choke.” Tony rubs his forehead before combing his hair back with his hand. Peter smiles proudly with his full cheeks. Bruce and Tony work on their pizza and by the time they’ve finished their respective three pieces, Peter finished his entire pizza. If he wanted to, he could probably eat another one too, but it seems like Bruce really wants to get the physicals done after what happened. After they finish, they take the elevator to the Medbay, even though it’s the last thing Tony wants to be doing, and they all get situated in a room.

“Alright, first I want to assess your vitals and make sure the chemicals that guy used isn’t in either of your systems still,” Bruce informs and continues to ramble using various medical terms as he checks their vitals.

“You do realize that we both have suits that monitor everything, right? We don't need all…” Tony gestures to Bruce’s office filled with various medical tools and trinkets “this.” Bruce almost looks insulted before placing his glasses in his pocket.

“I may not be this kind of doctor, but I’m still better than a suit that could miss something.” It’s Tony’s turn to look insulted.

“You’re _assuming_ that my suits would miss anything. And you know what they say when you _assume_.” He crosses his arms and raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “It makes an _ass_ out of _you_.” Peter turns to look at Tony, confused.

“I don't think that’s how the saying goes,” Peter carefully disagrees.

“Kid, don't take the punch out of my comebacks.”

“If you two are about finished,” Bruce interrupts “I’d like to talk about what I learned about Mysterio.” He types on a nearby computer and a hologram springs to life in the center of the room. It’s a 3D rendering of Mysterio’s suit with certain areas labeled.

“Nice work, Brucy. Actually, I wonder who got those scans for you. It's almost like, I dunno, a highly impressive natural-language user interface did it?” Tony smirks proudly and stands up with his hands clasped in front of him.

“Thank you for saying so, Boss. Dr. Banner did require my assistance to scan the intruder,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirms. “You’re welcome,” she adds for good measure, making Peter laugh.

“Alright, alright. Back to the point. We gathered some information based on his fighting style and weapons. Unfortunately, that's about the long and the short of what we got,” Bruce explains while rotating the model.

“So, what do we know about him besides the fact that he uses hallucinogens?” Peter asks curiously. He wants to learn as much as possible so that when he gets into a fight next time, Mysterio won't trick him again.

“Well,” Bruce highlights the tanks on Mysterio’s back “at least one of these has to be the oxygen supply. His helmet is made out of one-way plexiglass, which he most likely uses along with the oxygen tank to make sure he doesn't inhale his own gases. Also,” the diagram zooms in to the crook between Mysterio’s shoulder and helmet “there's a small projector mounted on his suit that allows him to create incredibly realistic illusions. Especially when he has the advantage of his mist creating a cover. With the mist, it will be almost impossible to distinguish the illusions from reality. Besides touch, obviously.”

“Thanks for the positivity, Bruce,” Tony comments sarcastically. He walks around the hologram, inspecting it as he rubs his chin. “We don't know what type of hallucinogenic drug he used, huh?” He spins the hologram with the wave of his hand.

“No, but, based on Peter’s actions after being exposed to it, my guess is some type of deliriant,” Bruce suggests carefully.

“How’s that different from other kinds?” Peter may be smart for his age, but it’s not like he’s looking up types of hallucinogens in his spare time.

“It’s the type where you’re most likely to hold a conversation with something that isn't there,” Tony begins. “You interact with people and objects that your mind creates and you can't tell the difference between that and reality. It can make you aggravated too, so we’re lucky Bruce stayed away from the stuff.” They would have been way out of their league if the Hulk went psycho.

“That makes sense,” Peter considers thoughtfully. “Everything looked clear as day. I thought for sure that the door and window were completely smashed to pieces. And I could, uh, hear his voice. Like, actually _hear_ it. It was intense.” He tries to stop the chills from spreading up his arms and chuckles to cover up his anxiety.

“You’re lucky your metabolism works at such a fast rate. Once you were away from the gas, your lungs burned through what was left in your body in a matter of seconds. That’s why it's so important for us to get your test results. As great as it is that you can burn through the hallucinogen, you can burn through anesthesia just as quickly,” Bruce easily explains. He pointedly looks at Tony who is still examining every inch of Mysterio’s get-up.

“Somehow he can maneuver through his own smokescreen. He made a decisive attack on Peter. How could he do that with a bowl on his head when even we couldn't see.” Tony looks expectantly at both of them. Peter looks at his hands and shrugs his shoulders.

“I don't know…We used heat signatures, but it didn't even work that well.” His brain isn't firing on all cylinders right now. He feels sluggish and emotionally as well as physically exhausted. This definitely isn't a feeling that he's used to.

“Maybe some kind of camera system or radar. Peter, did you see anything else on the outside of his suit?” Bruce asks. Peter thinks for a moment before shaking his head. It wasn't really on his mind when he was worried about Toomes. “What about his helmet? You two got a closer look than I could.” Once again, he shakes his head. The room falls silent for a few awkward beats and it almost feels crushing. _Why can't I be upbeat like I usually am?_ Tony gives Bruce a knowing look, but they’ve both noticed the kid’s lack of energy.

“How about we deal with this later,” Tony suggests. He claps his hands once and rubs them together. “Hey, who wants a movie night? I'll make the popcorn,” he offers. Bruce and Peter quickly protest.

“No, no that's alright,” Bruce laughs nervously.

“I'm sure there are other, less flammable snacks, Mr. Stark.” Peter smiles encouragingly.

“You’re on thin ice, kid” Tony points at Peter who laughs. Peter is about to say that Tony likes him too much to get rid of him, but…

“I’m not sure if I have the luxury to be watching movies. I have a lot of projects that I’ve fallen behind on and-” Bruce starts.

“It’s just a few hours at most,” Tony interrupts, waving off Bruce’s excuses. “You’re a smart cookie. You’ll figure it out.” He gives Bruce an encouraging pat on the back. Once again, they all pile back into the elevator and head up to the penthouse, this time for some well deserved relaxation. Tony immediately walks into the kitchen to start searching for snacks that are hopefully pre-made and edible.

“We’re going to pick out some movie choices,” Bruce calls to him. They take Tony’s silence as a greenlight to start searching through the movie selections. Peter falls back onto one of the many seats of the wrap-around couch and watches the screen as Bruce scrolls through the different movies.

“Can we watch Star Wars?” Peter asks excitedly with a wide grin when he sees it appear on the screen. “Ned and I have Star Wars marathons, like, all the time! We have the special edition DVD sets and go through the Behind the Scenes books as we watch. We actually built the Lego Death Star and it was over three thousand pieces! But then Ned accidentally dropped it but I can't blame him h-”

“You’ve seen it a million times, kid. You don't need to see it a million and one,” Tony cuts in. Peter looks over to him, but Tony hasn't shifted his attention from the giant pantry.

“Awe c’mon, Mr. Stark! It’s a classic!” Peter pleads with a groan.

“I know that. I was actually _born_ when it came out and saw it in theaters.”

“My age doesn't mean make me any less valid for liking Star Wars,” Peter grumbles with a huff.

“Y’know, I’m not a fan of the backtalk,” Tony turns to make eye contact with Peter “so how about we relax and pick a movie that we all want like one big, happy, dysfunctional family.” _Oh, so I don't get to “backtalk” but he can be sarcastic? ‘Cause that’s fair._

“Alright, alright. We’ll keep looking,” Bruce does his best to defuse the situation. He continues to scroll through the options until he stops on one titled _Big Hero 6_. “Hey, how about this one? It looks like it has to do with superheroes.” The image shows some sort of robot in bright red and purple body armor and a kid with similar looking purple armor.

“That looks cool.” Peter smiles at the screen, decently interested. Bruce starts to read the plot overview,

“‘Robotics prodigy Hiro lives in the city if San Fransokyo. Next to his older brother, Tadashi, Hiro’s closest friend is Baymax, a robot whose sole purpose is to take care of people.’ That’s nice, and I’m sure you can relate to a child prodigy.” He nudges Peter with his elbow who shakes his head with a grin.

“Not that one either,” Tony quickly cuts in before Bruce can continue the overview.

“Why? What’s wrong with this one?” Peter question curiously. Tony tries to find a reasonable explanation that doesn't involve saying “the main character lives with his aunt because his parents died and then he loses his brother too.” There are way too many common denominators for Peter to relate to.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t do well with certain…subjects and plot twists.” _Great,_ Peter thinks. _It’s the Baby Monitor Protocol all over again._ Tony walks towards them with two bowls in hand, but before he can reach them, Peter shoots a web at the side of one of the bowls and pull it towards himself. He easily catches the bowl with his enhanced grip and smiles proudly. “Was that really necessary?” Tony asks. Peter nods and shows off his web-shooters.

“There’s no way anyone’s catching me without these again after what happened today.” Tony sits down in between the two and hands the other bowl of chips and various candies to Bruce in exchange for the remote.

“ _The Goonies_ ,” Tony speaks into the remote. A title pops up on the screen showing a group of kids huddled together on top of a pile of treasure. “Now _this_ is a great eighties movie.”

“Unrealistic at times, but entertaining nonetheless,” Bruce agrees. When Peter glances at the names of the cast, one instantly catches his eye.

“Hey! This movie has that guy from those really long movies! You know, the ones that were three hours long about elves and that magic ring! He was the best character!”

“Samwise?” Tony suggests, raising a patient eyebrow.

“Yeah! He was the real hero if you ask me.” Peter crosses his arms confidently and sits back.

“Whatever floats your boat, kid. The series is called _Lord of the Rings_ , by the way,” Tony informs him before pressing play on the movie. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., lights please.” The lights slowly dim so that they can comfortably see the TV screen and the movie begins to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	10. Late Night Chats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you so much for continuing to read! I decided to post this chapter a bit later to see how it fairs :)
> 
> TW for night paralysis and apnea! Be careful if that's triggering for you. As someone who has personally experienced both, I can confirm it's not a fun experience. Have fun and stay safe!
> 
> -Kevy

Something doesn't feel right. Peter fell asleep somehow and he can vaguely start to hear the TV. He can feel the couch underneath him and Tony’s shoulder on his right. But Peter can't open his eyes. No matter how hard he tries, they just won't. He can't move. He can't breathe. He tries to force his muscles to move or at least open his eyes, but nothing works. The panic starts to set in. He can't move and he can't breathe and suddenly all he can feel is his heart hammering against his chest. No matter how hard he tries he can't move a single muscle or take in a single, much needed breath. _If I can't breathe, I’m going to die. Why can't I breathe?!_ He tries to call out to Tony and Bruce, but he doesn't make a damn sound. His heart beats even faster and he wishes the adrenaline would shake him out of whatever kind of trance he's in. _Is this Mysterio? Wouldn't Mr. Stark know?! I don't want to feel like I'm being crushed. Not again. I don't want to go through this feeling and this pain over and over. I don't want this to be my life. All I want is my lungs to let me scream. I can't let Toomes keep controlling me, I know that!_

But he just can't help but feel the pressure on his back and the serrated metal digging into his skin.

_Am I even awake? Is this another nightmare? I can't tell and it only makes me feel even more out of control and alone and-_

“Boss, Peter’s pulse has increased dramatically,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informs the room, her voice cutting through Peter’s panic. It’s something to hold on to, to prove he’s not alone. His last remaining comfort slips away as soon as Tony moves away and his head rolls to the side without the support.

“Peter.” Tony’s strict voice fills Peter’s head. Strong hands grip his shoulders and Tony tries to jostle him awake, but Peter can't make himself react. His lungs just won't work. He can't do anything. “Shit, he’s not breathing,” Tony mumbles Bruce. Tony can feel his own heart rate start to pick up, staring at Peter’s lax face and constricted chest. Did something happen while he wasn't looking? Did Peter get hit and kept quiet about it?

“Peter, can you hear me?” Bruce’s voice is directly in front of Peter as he feels Tony’s warm hands disappear. Peter wants to yell out so desperately. _Just move! Move move move move move…_ Peter’s finger twitches.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell’s going on Bruce?” Tony’s voice is close again and it’s more tense than the last time.

“I, I don't know, alright?” Bruce's voice is tense as well. Panicked. Peter tries to coach himself out of it. _If I can just keep moving…c’mon, move!_ Out of nowhere, he's able to open his eyes and suck in a breath that he thought he’d never get again. His chest heaves to pull in as much air as humanly possible and he gladly welcomes it.

“Thank god,” Tony says breathlessly. “My heart can't handle this kind of stress.”

“Can you hear me?” Bruce asks Peter, trying to maintain eye contact with him. Peter quickly nods and hopes beyond hope that he doesn't let himself cry. That was terrifying, but he's okay. He's okay. He's holds up a shaky thumbs up before letting it drop into his lap. Tony stiffly sits down next to Peter and hovers his hands over Peter’s shoulders as if the boy will pass out any second.

“How do you feel?” Tony asks. Peter doesn't feel so good, but he nods anyways. He still doesn't speak. He's afraid that if he speaks, all the oxygen will disappear again. He lies his head back against the head of the couch, but doesn't dare to close his eyes. “No, don't give me that crap. You just scared the everloving heck out of us, so I'm gonna need a better answer than that and don't you _dare_ say that you're okay. That was _not_ okay.” Tony gets more aggravated as he talks. He isn't one for portraying fear or concern, so he’s trying to cover it up with anger. Either that or he's just angry. It's probably the latter. Peter doesn’t look at Tony and instead keeps his eyes locked on the ceiling as he nods.

“I…I knew I was awake but, but I couldn't open my eyes? I could hear the TV but I couldn't see or move or, or talk. And then, and then I realized I couldn't breathe either so I started to freak out. I thought it was,” Peter brings his hand up to wipe his hair out of his face “I thought it was a dream so I, I waited but then F.R.I.D.A.Y. talked and everything went, went crazy. And all I wanted to do was breathe and I couldn't and it was frustrating and…” He holds his hand in the other to hide the trembling and presses his lips together. Tony takes a deep breath and slowly let's it out as he rubs his face with his hands.

“Alright, I’ll call in Dr. Cho first thing in the morning.” Peter sinks into the couch, knowing that he has caused so much trouble that Tony has to bring her in. He feels like more of a liability than a partner. _Partner? Who am I kidding._

“Maybe we should keep an eye on him, just in case it happens again. I don't feel comfortable leaving him alone,” Bruce adds. Peter huffs and shakes his head in disbelief.

“I'm sitting _right_ here y’know. I'm not a baby and I can speak for myself,” he defends with his arms crossed.

“Oh yeah? Fine then. What would you like to do?” Tony humors Peter, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“I want to go to me room and try to sleep with some peace and quiet.”

“No can do, kiddo,” Tony instantly denies. Peter instantly looks to Bruce, shocked, and raises his hands slightly to gesture at the smug looking Tony. All Bruce does is shrug.

“Why’d you ask me to choose when you were just gonna choose for me?!” Peter questions, his voice slightly higher.

“Because I wanted you to make the _right_ choice. You chose wrong. Try again next time,” Tony says nonchalantly. Peter scoffs and crosses his arms. Technically Tony can't stop him from going to his room, but he could always take the suit away or call Aunt May. There's no way he’s risking that.

“Dr. Cho is a good doctor and I'm sure she will be able to help more than I can,” Bruce encourages. Peter has heard about her so he’s not worried. He just doesn't like the situation in general. He's over it all. He wants to be able to be Spider-Man on his own terms again.

“But I'm fine. I'm good. Don't worry. F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s, like, everywhere right? So it doesn't matter where I am. If something happens, she’ll let you know. I just _really_ want to go to bed,” he practically pleads. Tony maintains his unwavering eye contact with Peter as he considers.

“Fine, but F.R.I.D.A.Y. knows what you're allowed and not allowed to do, so no funny business. I don't want to have to wake up in the middle of the night to suit up and save your tuchus. Got it?” _Bold of him to assume that I’ll want to get out of bed,_ Peter thinks.

“Yeah, got it,” he repeats so Tony won't give him a hard time. He presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows as if asking if Tony wants anything else.

“Well, thanks for having me, Tony,” Bruce speaks up instead. “I'm going to head out. There's a lot I have to work on.”

“Of course!” Tony gives him a quick hug with a pat. “Good seeing you, don't be a stranger.” Bruce nods then turns to Peter.

“Night, Dr. Banner. It was awesome meeting you.” Peter shakes hands with one of his greatest idols and Bruce smiles.

“It was great to meet you too, Peter. Take care of yourself.” Peter nods and watches as Bruce makes his way to the elevator before disappearing behind the doors. Tony claps his hands together and interlocks them in front of him.

“So, kid, hungry? Want some snacks? Junk food? I promise I won't set anything on fire and we don't have to tell Aunt May about the late night sugar rush,” he offers with a sly grin. Peter chuckles, but ultimately shake his head.

“No thanks. I'm just tired. Been a long, a long, crazy day. I think I'm gonna go to my room. Night, Mr. Stark.” He tries to walk to his room as fast as he can without making it obvious that he can't wait to be in his own space. When he reaches the door, Tony talks again.

“Pete?” Peter steadies himself before turning around and waiting patiently for the man to speak. “You do know that you can…talk to me, right? If you ever need anything or you feel like…talking about things.” Tony knows he isn't the best at emotions, but he’s trying for Peter. He's making an effort, and that's what matters. Peter can tell.

“Of course, Mr. Stark. Thanks.” Peter offers him a small smile before opening the bedroom door and shutting it behind him. He leans against the closed door and takes some deep breaths, savoring the ability to breathe again. Before he can think too much about what just happened, he pulls out his phone and selects May’s contact. It’s only takes a few rings for her patient voice to answer.

“Hey, sweetheart. How’s everything going?” Just hearing her voice helps him relax and breathe a bit easier.

“It's been, you know, an experience. Not a bad experience, but an experience.” It's hard to get a proper thought out, but he tries his best. Fake it till you make it! There’s a brief pause.

“What’s wrong?” Well, so much for that plan. For some reason, his eyes well up with tears. He quickly wipes his eyes before the tears can fall and chuckles.

“Nothing! I just wanted to call you before I went to bed.”

“Already? It’s only nine o’clock. You haven't gone to bed before eleven since you were twelve,” she explains skeptically.

“Yeah but, it’s been crazy today and since, since Mr. Stark and I have been working on stuff I thought it’d be a good idea to get some extra sleep.” He rambles to try to keep his voice steady.

“You’re a crappy liar. You get that from me,” she admits fondly. _I mean, I’ve been pretty good lying so far…_ Peter guiltily counters in his head. “I can tell when you're upset. Talk to me.” Peter knows how to stay strong, he really does, but when May sounds so comforting and open, he just can't help but break down into sobs. He covers his mouth with his sweatshirt sleeve, so that Tony won't hear, and squeezes his eyes shut.

“It’s just…it’s tough sometimes,” he whispers, afraid that if he tries to talk he’ll be too loud. He slides down the door until he's able to sit on the carpeted floor. “And, and it doesn't help when nightmares are, y'know, the, and-”

“Baby, calm down. Breathe.” May sounds about as pained as he is. “What nightmares?” she asks gently. Peter does as she says and takes a few steadying breaths. His legs are bent in front of him so that he can rest his forehead on his knees.

“I’ve had them ever since homecoming, after the Toomes problem.” After May accidentally saw Peter in the Spider-Man suit, he and Tony caught her up to speed on everything that had happened. Well, he didn't mention the minor detail of a collapsed building almost crushing him. “Just, everything that happened affected me more than I thought, I guess. Sometimes I get nightmares. I fell asleep when Mr. Stark, Dr. Banner, and I were watching a movie and I don't remember if I had a nightmare or not but when I woke up I couldn't…I couldn't move.” Peter's throat tightens and stops him from explaining any further.

“Couldn't move? What do you mean?” May asks patiently. She’s a nurse, so it’s almost like having a check-up over the phone. Still, Peter’s not used to her trying to diagnose him, especially since he had become Spider-Man.

“I could feel my body, but I couldn't move it. And I could hear everything too! I just couldn't move or breathe and it _sucked_.” He wipes his damp cheeks with his sleeve and sniffs. _Calm down. You need to pull yourself together._

“It’s okay Peter, you're safe,” May soothes. “Do you need me to come pick you up?”

“No!” Peter quickly blurts out. “No, I just, I just needed to talk about it. I don't wanna be rude to Mr. Stark and leave when he has the rest of the weekend planned out.” He hears his aunt sigh on the other end.

“Stark won't think you’re weak for coming home,” May tries to reason with him. _He might not, but I will,_ Peter counters in his head.

“I know, May. I want to stay. I'm feeling better now, I promise.” His voice sounds more confident now that he’s starting to calm down. May takes another deep breath, probably trying to calm her own nerves too. It can't be easy for her to hear, especially after everything she's been through.

“Call me the second something happens, understand? No excuses. I know that the AI in your suit can make calls.” She uses her stern voice. The same kind of tone she used when Peter came home after the news about the ferry and wasn't answering her calls.

“I understand.”

“Stay safe, I love you.” May's tone is soft and gentle again.

“Love you too.” Peter hangs up and toss his phone onto the bed. He needs a shower, desperately, for his own sanity. Luckily, his room conveniently has its own bathroom. He walks through the door that separates his room from the bathroom and gladly pulls off the clothes he has been wearing for way too long. Not to mention he had to wear them underneath his suit during the fight, which definitely didn't help. He sighs contently when the warm water hits his back and he finally allows his tense muscles to relax.

“Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” He tilts his head back to wet his hair and lets the water wash over his face.

“Yes, Peter?” she answers.

“What’s it like being an interface? Y’know, if I can ask?” Peter asks curiously, but also makes sure he’s not overstepping any boundaries.

“Of course, it’s not a problem. I don't exactly know what to compare my experiences to yours in a way that won't be confusing, though. I suppose it's like being connected to everything all at once. It isn't a feeling, but it's a freedom that is hard to explain. I know that at any point I can redirect my consciousness to anywhere in the Stark Industries Tower as well as Boss’s suit.” He lathers his hair up with shampoo as he listens to her explain.

“It must be a cool to be able to go anywhere you want. I guess you don't get bored then?” _Can she get bored? I hope I'm not being insensitive._

“Not particularly. There is always something to do.” He rinses his hair and moves onto the conditioner, which makes his hair surprisingly silky. He's not used to high-end hair products. Actually, he's not used to high-end anything.

“You don't ever get lonely? Like, not being bored and not being lonely are different things. I can be busy and have things to do, but still be lonely, y’know?” he tries to explain.

“I understand. I don't recall ever feeling lonely, though.” He nods thoughtfully as he sits down and takes in the warmth. “Do you ever get lonely?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. asks.

“Sometimes. If May is working overtime and Ned is busy, then yeah. But not as much as I used to. Now whenever I feel bored or lonely or both, I put on the suit and patrol. Helping people makes me feel better and a bit less lonely, I guess. Like I'm useful.” Water drips off the tip of his nose and cascades down his shoulders.

“You’re a good person, Peter.” He can't wrap his mind around how an AI can sound so sincere, but he can't help but smile.

“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.. I sure hope so.” He stays like this for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of the running water flow down his skin. Sometimes, it's nice to relax and enjoy the little things. Still, he decides to get out since he doesn't want to waste water and raise Tony's water bill. He knows Tony can afford it, but that’d be rude of him to take advantage of it. He’s out in less than fifteen minutes and happy to get dried and dressed…into the same clothes that he has now been wearing for twenty-four hours. Fantastic.

Once he’s dressed, he sprawls out on the bed and sifts through the messed up covers for his phone. When he turns it on, the screen flashes brightly. He quickly pulls it away from his face and sees dark splotches that stay in his vision for a few seconds. Before he opens it again, he carefully turns down the brightness so that he’s not blinded again. He unlocks his phone and immediately goes to text Ned.

 

**_Guy in the Chair_**

Peter: _hey Ned! hows it goin_

Ned: _hiiiii! im bored out of my mind dude_

Ned: _im working on that reading response thats due on monday and i SWEAR ive reread the same paragraph like five times and it still doesn't make any sense_

Ned: _save me ;-;_

Peter: _we got that assignment a week ago and youre just now doing it??_

Peter: _its hard to feel sorry for ya man_

Ned: _uggggggghh_

Ned: _forget about hw_

Ned: _hows living with Tony Stark?!?!?!_

Ned: _whatve you guys done??? besides fight that mysterio guy_

Peter: _Mr. Stark almost set the kitchen on fire so that was fun_

Peter: _besides that we havent actually done a lot_

Peter: _oh and we watched a movie with Dr. Banner_

Ned: _THE bruce banner?!?! Jksdhfjkhvue man your life is so awesome_

Peter: _haha i think it was called the goonies or something_

Ned: _that’s a classic! how can you not know that movie??_

Ned: _mom used to put that movie on all the time it was great_

Peter: _its not myyyyy fault May never watched it_

Peter: _shouldnt you be focusing on your hw instead of being meeeean to me_

Ned: _youre??? the one??? who texted me first??????_

Peter: _technicalities_

Peter: _wait_

Peter: _why are doing hw at 9:30??_

Ned: _people do crazy things when their superhero best friend is busy with iron man instead keeping their Guy in the Chair™ company…_

Peter: _did you really just trademark yourself_

Ned: _yep_

Ned: _you have to pay me every time you say it now_

Ned: _then i'll be so rich that I’LL be the one hanging out with tony stark_

Peter: _pfffffft you wish_

Ned: _dude you have no idea_

Ned: _if only my superhero best friend would introduce me already…_

Peter: _im woooorking on it_

Peter: _every time i offer to ask him you freak out and change your mind_

Ned: _how could you call me out like that_

Ned: _i trusted you peter_

 

Peter can't help but laugh as they continue to text. It isn't until around 12:30 am that Ned decides he needs to go to bed and they say their good nights. Peter puts his phone on the nightstand and takes a deep breath. Without the light from his phone, the room is pitch black and he can't help but feel unsettled. After a few minutes of sitting in the darkness, his anxiety makes hum sit up to grab his web-shooters out of the nightstand drawer. They aren't exactly the safest things to wear while he sleeps, but they make him feel…safe. Not just safe, but capable too. He knows that if something happens, he'll have his web-shooters on to help out. At least, he hopes he can help. He slides his web-shooters on and makes sure they're loaded by pressing his middle and ring finger down. When he hears the faint click, he smiles to himself. All locked and loaded!

Feeling a bit better, he lies back down and…well he’d like to sleep, but he just can't. He spends a few minutes trying to find a comfortable position, but somehow he’s wide awake. After everything that has happened and how exhausted he feels, he _still_ can't sleep. He feels like the universe just wants to see him suffer. Defeated, he sits up again and this time removes the covers. If he can't sleep, he might as well get a midnight snack to keep him company. He slowly opens his door to create as little noise as possible and practically tiptoes to the kitchen. He should've brought his phone with him since the only thing lighting the spacious room is the light from the city below leaking through the windows. A box of pizza is still sitting on the counter from our dinner and he doesn't think he could be any more grateful. He eagerly pulls out a piece of pineapple pizza and sighs when he takes a bite. Chills suddenly erupt from his shoulders and spread down his arms. His breathing stops. He drops his pizza and whips around to face the threat with both his web-shooters extended in front of him. He doesn't waste time in shooting his webs as soon as the figure is in view. The webs wrap around the torso of the intruder and Peter notices that…there’s a bright blue light in the center of their chest. _I'm dead. Deceased._

“Hey, kid,” Tony greets nonchalantly with his sweatshirt coated in webbing. He looks at the ground where Peter’s pizza now lies face down. “Late night snack, huh?” He carefully pulls his the sweatshirt over his head, turning it inside out as he does, so that the webbing doesn't get anywhere else.

“Mr. Stark, I'm so sorry! It was dark and, and you looked-”

“Stop apologizing so much. I shouldn't have snuck up on you, relax.” He tosses his sweatshirt onto the couch and smooths his hair back.

“That’ll, uh, dissolve in two hours. So, don't worry,” Peter explains lamely. Tony picks up the piece of pizza off the ground with his index finger and thumb.

“Couldn't sleep?” he asks as he throws the pizza into the garbage.

“Nah, just hungry. You?” _Liar. All you do is lie._ Peter rubs his hands together awkwardly.

“I'm not used to going to sleep this early,” Tony shrugs nonchalantly “I’ve been in the workshop.”

“Early? You do realize that it’s, like, almost one in the morning, right?” Peter clarifies, raising an eyebrow.

“Which is exactly why _you_ shouldn't be awake,” Tony accuses before grabbing his own piece of pizza. “How are you feeling?” The question takes Peter slightly off guard. Tony instantly tries to search his head for a joke to conceal the concern that escaped him, but Peter nods.

“Good! Yeah, feeling better,” Peter reassures him. He gets himself a replacement piece of pizza and holds it with both hands to make sure he doesn't drop it. Tony raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“What do you say we have a bit of a field trip tomorrow? Get out of the Tower. Maybe some lunch, some shopping,” Tony offers, taking another bite.

“That sounds great, Mr. Stark, but I…can't.”

“That's a bit vague,” he narrows his eyes. “Why not?” He definitely isn't used to being told “no.”

“Well…” Peter’s cheeks heat up with embarrassment “I don't have the money for that kind of thing.” Tony opens his mouth to argue, but Peter quickly interrupts him. “And I'm not going to take any of your money!” he adds in a breath.

“Technically I'm your boss, which means you have to listen to me. Respect your elders, kid. We’ll get you some new clothes too.” Before Peter can protest, Tony turns around and heads back to his room. Peter stands in silence, utterly speechless. _I'm going on a shopping spree…with Mr. Stark?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wouldn't want to go on a shopping spree with Tony Stark,,, Fun stuff next chapter!
> 
> ALSO officially over 100 pages in!! See you all on Saturday and thank you for reading!
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	11. A Day in the Life of a Citizen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday everyone! Whether you celebrate Easter or not, I hope you all have a good weekend :)
> 
> Pretty laid back chapter today, no trigger warnings. Just have fun and stay safe as usual!
> 
> -Kevy

On Sunday, Peter actually wakes up at a reasonable time, if you consider 11:00 am reasonable. It’s the weekend, that's practically waking up early! Besides, he doesn't want to keep Tony waiting. He wasn't expecting to go shopping, especially with someone like Tony. This isn't exactly how he saw the weekend going, but then again nothing about this weekend has been predictable.

“Morning, kiddo.” Tony walks out of the elevator, taking a sip of what’s probably coffee. _Hopefully_ coffee.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark,” Peter greets with a smile.

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Tony leans on the arm of the couch Peter’s sitting on. Peter decided to watch some TV while he waited for Tony to be done in the workshop. Normally he would go down and work with Tony, but he didn't want to bug him after yesterday.

“Yep! Did you?” Peter tries to make casual conversation. Tony holds up his mug as if it’s all the answer he needs to give.

“Ready to head out? I made reservations for lunch at some fancy dancy place Pep recommended,” he shrugs.

“Why not a hotdog stand or a burger joint instead? It’s a lot less high profile. The last thing we want is the press spreading rumors,” Peter suggests instead. “Fancy” sounds expensive. Plus, he definitely doesn't need Flash seeing him with Tony Stark all over social medias. Not that it wouldn't be great to rub it in his face, but Flash would probably find a way to torment him with it. Tony raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“Spreading rumors that you intern for me?” Tony questions, not getting Peter’s point.

“Well, I mean, we shouldn't have attention drawn to us. Especially with my secret identity and what people at school would say, y’know?” Peter quickly specifies.

“Fine, but I still get to pick where we shop.” Tony puts on his signature sunglasses and grabs a baseball hat off the back of the couch. He’s somewhat worried about why Peter is concerned that people at his school will find out. Why would people at Peter’s school care? They already know about the internship. “A day out and about with the little people, huh?” Peter smiles encouragingly and hops to his feet. He jogs over to his room to stuff his suit into his backpack, just in case he needs it. You can never be too prepared! He uses the long sleeves of his sweatshirt to hide his web-shooters before slinging the backpack over his shoulder.

“Ready!” They both get in the elevator and head down to the garage. Happy is waiting for them in a surprisingly inconspicuous black Cadillac. Well, inconspicuous compared to the Audis and Rolls Royces that Happy usually drives. Still, rarely anyone in Queens has a Cadillac, so they might get some looks. Tony opens the door for Peter, who slides in. “Hey, Happy!” Peter greets enthusiastically.

“Hi, Peter. How are things going?” Happy asks as Tony gets in and shuts the door behind him.

“Good! Fantastic.” Peter nods with a tight-lipped smile. “How about you?” _Great small talk, Peter. Bore them to death why don't you?_

“My heart's still beating.” Happy gives Tony a pointed look, who smiles innocently in return. “Where to?” he asks Tony while starting the engine.

“Peter’s calling the shots on this one,” Tony informs.

“Oh, then,” Happy eyes in the rear view mirror shift to Peter “where to?” he repeats.

“Well, um, how about we go to Mr. Delmar’s? It's the deli-grocery shop on the corner of 21st Street. He’ll give us a discount, too!” Peter reconsiders his words for a moment. “Maybe. If I don't mention his daughter. Actually, we probably won't get that discount. I always have them before my patrols, though! He has the best sandwiches in Queens!” Peter rambles excitedly. He knows they're gonna love it! Tony raises a single, doubtful eyebrow.

“I highly doubt that, but off we go.” He buckles his seatbelt and Peter quickly does the same. Mr. Delmar’s shop isn't exactly the closest, but Peter isn't really familiar with the restaurants up here. “So, a deli, huh?” Tony looks at him, utterly unconvinced.

“Unless you're in the mood for larb.” Peter shivers at the thought of that waiter hitting on May. It was almost as bad as when Tony tried to hit on her. Tony takes off his sunglasses just to give Peter one of the most baffled looks the teen has ever seen.

 _“ _Larb?_ _Are you kidding me? Kid, you gotta get out more.” Peter holds back a scoff.

“Get out _more_ _?_ I don't think I could get out more if I tried. Between school and decathlon and patrol, I spend more time out than I do in,” he rambles, partly talking to himself and partly to Tony. It's true though, he has zero free time. Not that he minds.

“I'm talking about normal teenage stuff,” Tony continues “like going to the movies with your friend Ted or shopping with your aunt.”

“His name is Ned.”

“Him too. My point is,” he ignores Peter’s correction “you're only a kid for so long. Don't waste it by trying to grow up too fast or screw it up like I did.” Peter narrows his eyes at the way Tony says that.

“What do you mean like you did?” he asks curiously. Happy glances at them through the rearview mirror before turning his attention back to the road.

“I’ll tell you when you're older, squirt.” Tony ruffles Peter’s hair. Peter pouts and attempts to fix his hair.

“Technically, I'm already older by a few seconds. Y’know, we’re always living in the past because of the way our brains process what’s around us. By the time it takes light to reach our eyes, the image to be flipped, and then our brain to comprehend it, we’re already seeing the past by fractions of a second.” Tony raises both of his eyebrows.

“Fascinating,” he humors Peter.

“Not that this wasn't _f un_ _,”_ Happy interjects “but we're here.” He pulls off to the curb and parks the car on the corner right in front of Mr. Delmar’s. Peter can't believe he has gone two whole days without eating one of Mr. Delmar’s sandwiches!

“You sure about this place, kid?” Tony questions uneasily as he stares at the deli.

“Of course! C’mon, Mr. Stark! Let’s go!” With a sigh, Tony opens the door and gets out. Peter quickly follows and shuts the door behind them. Before they walk towards the deli, Peter knocks on the passenger window. Happy seems reluctant at first, but rolls down the window nonetheless.

“What?” he asks impatiently.

“Aren't you coming in too?” Peter asks. Happy seems taken aback, but quickly composes himself.

“Someone's gotta watch the car, that's my job. I appreciate it though.” He clears his throat.

“Do you want me to get you a sandwich? They’re really good! I promise it's worth it.” Peter tries his best to convince him, but Happy shakes his head.

“Thanks, Peter, but I have to watch what I eat.” He pats his chest with a small smile and Peter remembers that the man has heart issues.

“No problem!” Peter returns his smile brightly and then walks into Mr. Delmar’s with Tony, who’s wearing his sunglasses and hat as if it'll help him stay unrecognizable. The deli was remodeled after the ATM incident, but it still has the same charm to it. Mr. Delmar is behind the counter like usual with his forearms resting on it.

“What’s up, Mr. Delmar?” Peter greets. Mr. Delmar turns towards them and raises both his arms with a smile.

“Mr. Parker lives,” he announces. “I was worried I’d lost my most loyal customer.” Peter grabs two bags of gummy worms off the shelf and sets them down on the counter.

“Not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures.

“So, what’s kept you? Not gettin’ into any trouble right?” Mr. Delmar eyes Tony, who looks a bit sketchy hanging around Peter.

“No, no, of course not. Just been busy with school and the internship. This is…my boss?” Peter didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but it's technically the truth.

“Afternoon,” Tony nods. He's actually being polite. That's a shocker. “Feel free to contact us if you ever need to discuss Peter. We’re always happy to know.” And there it is. Peter turns around to look at him with narrowed eyes. All Tony does is give Peter an innocent smile. _Since when do I deserve any form of payback?!_

“I don't think that’ll be necessary. He’s a good kid.” Mr. Delmar smiles to them.

“Yeah, so I've been told.” Tony nods in agreement, his face softening. It seems like everyone has the same opinion of Peter; that he’s a good person. Peter can't meet either of their eyes and turns his face away from them in embarrassment.

“A backtalker, but a good kid either way,” Mr. Delmar adds smugly.

“Don't worry, I know about that first hand,” Tony agrees nonchalantly.

“Oh thanks guys,” Peter cuts in sarcastically, but can't help the grin on his face. “Getting chastised is great and all, but I would kill for a sandwich right about now.”

“The best sandwiches in Queens are worth killing for! The regular number five?” Mr. Delmar asks while standing up straighter. He prides himself in his business and Peter admires him for that.

“Yes please. And-”

“With pickles and press it down flat. Got it, chief.” Peter smiles proudly and crosses his arms. “And you?” Mr. Delmar turns his attention to Tony.

“Well, uh…” Tony pauses briefly, taking in the unfamiliar menu.

“Number seven, everything on it except the mayo,” Peter answers for him before it gets awkward. Mr. Delmar nods, turning away to help one of his employees with the sandwiches. “Trust me, you’ll love it, Mr. Stark.” Tony simply shrugs his shoulders and clicks his tongue against his teeth.

“I prefer pepperoni pizza,” Tony corrects matter-of-factly. Peter raises both of his eyebrows at him, unamused.

“Y'know, it's okay to enjoy things,” Peter points out.

“Are we just going to ignore the fact that you know how I like my sandwiches?” Tony smirks, knowing he has the upper hand. Peter’s face starts to heat up and he pouts as he rubs his cheeks.

“Your ego’s showing,” he mumbles.

“Your fanboy is showing,” Tony counters. A few moments later, Mr. Delmar hands them their sandwiches.

“Thanks, Mr. Delmar,” Peter says politely.

“No problem.” Tony pulls out his credit card, but Peter quickly fumbles for his own wallet.

“I got it,” he casually argues, but Tony just shakes his head.

“Employee lunches are on me.” Peter narrows his eyes skeptically.

“Since when?”

“Since now,” Tony states before swiping his card. Peter can't help but feel a bit guilty.

“Remember kid, school will get you where you need to be in life. Keep it up,” Mr. Delmar encourages.

“Yeah, yeah. Just you wait, I’ll be your rival sandwich shop in no time,” Peter teases with a devious smile.

“Hey, I won't go easy on you!” Mr. Delmar warns.

“I'm not expecting you to!” The smile lingers on Peter's lips as he and Tony walk outside to sit at one of the tables.

“So, Mr. Delmar huh?” Tony starts awkwardly.

“Yeah, he’s pretty great." Peter smiles. "He's always super encouraging. Look, Mr. Stark, about the sandwich, I’ll pay you back as soon as I get back to-”

“Stop right there, kid,” Tony interrupts. Peter instantly shuts his mouth. “Don't forget who you're talking to. Lighten up. I don't care if it costs me a million dollars if it gets you to eat.” Tony takes a bite of his sandwich contently. For some reason, Peter can't shake the feeling of being a burden. _I don't want to be some kind of charity case. Mr. Stark has better things to do than to play tourist with someone like me._ “Stop it.” Peter is snapped out of his thoughts with a start and looks up at Tony. Peter chuckles, trying to hide his sudden anxiety.

“I didn't even say anything.”

“I saw the wheels turning in your head.” Tony vaguely gestures to Peter's head with his free hand. “Stop overthinking. You need to do yoga or something.” _Yoga? Is he insane? I can barely sit still for five minutes!_

“I just don't think we should be wasting your money. Like, I don't really need new clothes or anything like that. I'm only staying for today and then I'm gone.” Peter tries to reason with him, but it doesn't look like anything will convince him.

“It's not a waste. What _is_ a waste is arguing during our boss-intern bonding time,” Tony says while holding up a single finger.

“But, I mean, what's the point of making you spend your money on me when I have the money?” Peter counters.

“Kid, let me splurge a little.” Tony makes a disgusted face, causing Peter to tilt his head in confusion. “ _Splurge_ ,” he repeats uncomfortably. “Never let me use that word again.”

“Um, okay?” Peter confirms, extremely confused.

“Good. Now eat.” Tony nods to Peter's flat, untouched sandwich. Peter decides to not argue more and does as he says. Peter isn't one for being told what to do, but he's not going to waste Tony's money either.

After they finish their sandwiches, they get back in the Cadillac and Tony insists that they go to a place called Suitsupply Williamsburg. Apparently it's somewhere in Brooklyn? It already sounds expensive. Peter wonders why he would even need a suit, but doesn't argue. When they start walking down Wythe Avenue, Peter can't help but tightly interlock his fingers in front of him.

“Mr. Stark-”

“Did I or did I not tell you to loosen up? You really suck at relaxing. Most people would _kill_ to have me take them shopping. Literally and figuratively.” Tony stops in front of a building with way more display windows than needed, each containing a different, expensive looking suit.

“No offense, Mr. Stark, but the last time you took me shopping was after you-” _took away the suit,_ Peter finishes in his head. He quickly corrects himself, “after we fought. I left the store wearing a tourist ‘I survived my trip to NY’ t-shirt and Hello Kitty pajama pants.” He tries to find any reason to get out of shopping. The outside of the store already looks expensive and intimidating enough. He and May never shop at these kind of stores.

“And you still have those, so I would say I did a pretty good job,” Tony counters. Peter's face instantly feels like it's on fire and he knows it's most likely bright red.

“What? How, how did you know I still have them?!”

“I didn't,” Tony pauses to smirk at Peter “but I do now.” He casually adjusts his hat and pushes up his sunglasses before leading the way into the store. Peter is frozen in place, utterly mortified. _I fell right into that. Now he knows I still have those dumb pajamas._ He shoves his hands into his pockets and hangs his head low in embarrassment. As he walks toward the doors, something bright red catches his eye. He turns around to see a store across the street with a sign that reads “Intergalactic Imports.” The bright red that caught his attention is actually a poster taped to the window with an image of…him? Well, it's Spider-Man, but that's basically him! His eyes widen in shock and excitement floods his system.

“Mr. Stark! Look!” he calls to Tony, his eyes still glued to the store. There’s a Spider-Man action figure hanging in the window, a Captain America shield, an Iron Man mask, Hulk gloves, and so much other stuff that he’s in absolute awe of.

“Kid?” Tony calls back from inside the suit store. Peter looks both ways before running across the street to Intergalactic Imports. “Peter!” He ignores Tony and presses his face against the glass to look at everything better. There's action figures of all the Avengers and, even more exciting, stuff of Spider-Man too! There's socks with Spider-Man prints and Spider-Man plushies with oversized heads. “Are you trying to give me a goddamn heart attack? You can't just bolt across the street like that!” Tony scolds while slightly out of breath.

“We gotta go inside!” Before Tony can respond, Peter leaves the window and runs through the door. A bell rings at the top of the door, signaling the employee of Peter's entrance.

“Welcome to Intergalactic Imports,” the employee greets monotonously. Peter’s eyes dart excitedly throughout the small store. There are Avengers merchandise in every corner and he has no idea where to start. He notices a Captain America backpack in the corner and takes off towards it, only to be stopped by a hand grasping the collar of his sweatshirt.

“Not so fast, kiddo.”

“Hey!” he complains as he turns around to face Tony.

“Don't you _hey_ me in that tone,” Tony reprimands. “Slow down. First off, don't ever go sprinting off into the street again. I swear, I'll buy a damn leash if I have to. I already have enough heart problems as it is. Second off, do you really need this crap?” He skeptically looks around the shop, unimpressed.

“It’s not crap, Mr.-” Tony instantly covers Peter’s mouth. _Oh, right. Calling him “Mr. Stark” would definitely give us away._ Peter looks over to the employee, who thankfully seems more interested in her phone than them.

“Language,” Tony scolds as he removes his hand.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You really want this stuff?” Suddenly, Peter feels even more embarrassed than before. _What was I thinking? He probably thinks I'm acting like such a kid to want this kinda stuff._

“Well, I mean, I just wanted to look. I don't have to, y’know, get anything. It's your money.” Peter does his best to cover up his nerves by putting his hands behind his back and looking at his shoes. He can feel Tony's eyes on him, which only makes him more anxious. _Did I embarrass him?_

“How about a compromise?” Tony offers. Peter looks back up at him with his eyes narrowed in confusion.

“A compromise?”

“Yep. You can get…whatever it is that you want from here. Then, we get you some actual clothes and a real suit. Deal?” Tony offers. He wants Peter to be comfortable, which apparently means getting nerdy Avengers merch.

“Deal!” Peter immediately agrees and darts off towards the Captain America backpack again.

“Well that was easier than expected,” Tony mutters to himself. Peter looks through the store for about ten more minutes, deciding on the Captain America backpack, a sweatshirt with the Avengers emblem on it, a Mjölnir keychain, a shirt that says “I(53) Ru(44) N(7) Periodically,” and a Spider-Man plushie. The science pun t-shirt was a must and no one can change his mind. Though, he did try to stay away from the Iron Man merch out of fear of making Tony uncomfortable. He piles everything onto the counter and the employee starts to scan them. Tony leans on the counter and raises an eyebrow at Peter.

“So, don't like _Iron Man_ , huh?” Tony asks nonchalantly. Peter’s heart hammers against his chest. _Did I make him angry? Is he upset? Does he think I don't like him?_

“It’s not like that! I swear! I just-”

“I'm messing with you, kid.” Tony clasps a hand on Peter’s shoulder before passing his credit card to the employee. Peter hopes Tony can't tell how tense he is. The woman hands Peter the bags and Tony leads them back across the street to the fancy suit store. It's an understatement to say Peter feels out of place in this store. He tightly holds onto his bags as Tony looks through the various hanging suits. First, Tony holds up a dark navy blue suit with thin, white lines going up it.

“You want me to wear…a pinstripe suit?” Peter questions carefully. Tony smiles proudly at the suit and then to Peter.

“I think it'd look pretty snazzy,” he argues. _Do people still use the word “snazzy?”_

“I dunno, not really my kinda thing.” Peter presses his lips together and looks around at the other suits.

“Alrighty, how about this one then?” Tony pulls out a burgundy suit with silk edges. It's better than the pinstripe suit, so Peter gently takes it from him and looks it over. Actually, it's not that bad and Peter’s obviously not opposed to the color if his Spider-Man suit is anything to go by. He's about to agree when he notices the price tag…$2,615.

“Um, maybe not, maybe not this one.” He immediately hands it back. _I can't believe I was holding something that’s worth more than a month of May’s income._ Tony slowly takes it back, his eyes lingering on Peter for a moment.

“Remember our deal. If you don't pick one, then I'll just pick one for you. And it’ll be the most expensive heap of overpriced fabric in the store. And I don't care if the most expensive thing here is covered in polka dots.” Tony smiles smugly. Peter huffs and grumbles to myself before looking through the racks. Eventually, he finds a fairly less expensive, gray, $500 suit. Holding it still makes him nervous, but he shows it to Tony anyways in hopes that he’ll just ignore the relatively cheap price. Tony holds it up next to Peter and then, unfortunately, looks at the price. “Of course you’d find the least expensive thing in a designer store. Go try it on.” Peter is too embarrassed to look at Tony's face and just nods while staring at the floor. After he has changed into the suit, he goes out to show Tony.

“How’s this?” Tony looks him over and motions for him to turn around with a finger. Peter turns out around, feeling incredibly self-conscious.

“Not too shabby, kid. Change and we’ll get out of here.” Peter lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding and nods.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.” He rushes into the changing room and gets out of the suit as quickly and gingerly as possible. Tony pays for the suit without blinking, which makes sense since he’s a billionaire, but Peter still isn't used to it. After shopping at literally the most expensive store Peter has ever step foot in, Tony has mercy on him and takes him to a regular department store. Peter actually gets to look around for some casual clothes, in the clearance section of course.

“You're fine with me making you a multi-million dollar suit, but not buying you a measly two thousand dollar suit?” Tony inquires as Peter look through the clothes.

“I mean, you made the suit for me. It’s different then just going to the store and buying something. You put time and work into the suit. It’s, y’know, special.” Peter keeps his voice hushed so that other people can't overhear their conversation. When Tony doesn't respond, Peter stops rummaging through the rack and turns to look at him. Tony looks slightly taken aback, but quickly composes himself.

“Either way, it’s not a problem, kid.” Tony then goes back to looking at his phone. People who say teenagers are glued to their phones obviously haven't seen Tony with his Stark Phone. Actually, he looks kind of frustrated with it, Peter notices. Or with whoever he’s talking to on it.

“Everything okay?” Peter asks cautiously. He doesn't want to come across as nosy.

“Hm?” Tony looks back up at him with distracted eyes. “Oh, of course. No worries.” He puts the phone in his pocket and smiles encouragingly. “Let’s wrap it up. Pep’s making dinner tonight and trust me, we don't wanna piss her off by being late.” All Peter does is nod before grabbing some of the clothes with red clearance tags.

When they finish shopping, Happy is waiting out front in the black Cadillac. Peter easily carries all the bags of clothing that Tony made him get and Tony opens the door.

“How’d it go?” Happy asks as they get in.

“Productive, if I dare say so,” Tony answers.

“He made me get a five hundred dollar suit,” Peter grumbles. Happy starts the car and starts the drive towards the Tower.

“Only five hundred?” Happy seems surprised.

“He said he didn't want a suit, so I told him he could get his nerdy stuff if he got one.” Tony shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

“I said I didn't have to get them!” Peter’s voice cracks as he tries to defend himself, which doesn't exactly help his case.

“Nerd stuff?” Happy raises a curious eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, kid went to town on buying Avengers merchandise.” Tony smirks at Peter while taking off his hat.

“Gotcha. Fanboy mode.” Happy nods in understanding.

“I'm not a fanboy!” Peter’s lie isn't even half believable, mostly because they all know he is most definitely a fanboy.

“You still suck at lying,” Tony notes, his arms crossed and smirk unwavering. Peter pouts, but then slowly smiles.

“You’re just jealous ‘cause I didn't buy any Iron Man merch.” Tony raises his eyebrows and Happy coughs to hide his laugh.

“Is that _sass_ I'm detecting?” Tony questions with a joking tone.

“You tell me, _genius,"_ Peter challenges confidently.

“Alright, you little punk, you’re grounded. How about that?” Tony crosses his arms confidently.

“ _Little?!”_   Peter demands in disbelief.

“Really? That’s the part you get hung up on?” Tony shakes his head with a smile, then his phone buzzes. His smile slowly fades as he does something on his phone.

“Yes! I'm not little! I'm five feet ten inches tall, we talked about this!” Peter counters.

“Okay, kid,” Tony mumbles absentmindedly. He never gives up on an argument that easily. Ever…

“You okay, Mr. Stark?” This is the second time today he has gotten distracted by his phone, and not in the typical busy kind of way.

“Mhm.” Something’s definitely wrong.

“One word answers aren't exactly what you're known for. And that wasn't even a word. It was more like a grumble or a-”

“Peter, let it go,” Tony interrupts. Peter instantly shuts his rambling mouth and presses his lips together. It’s dead silent the rest of the ride to the Tower. He can't help the nervousness that begins to settle in his stomach. _Did I upset him again? Dammit Peter, you never know when to hold your tongue. I can't help it when I'm anxious, though._ When Happy parks, Tony puts his phone into his pocket and rubs his forehead. “A minute please, Happy.” Without a single grumble, Happy gets out of the car, leaving them parked in the garage. Tony takes a deep breath looks at Peter, but Peter keeps his eyes on his hands. “Sorry I snapped at you, kid.” His tone is back to its usual lighthearted nature.

“I'm sorry tha-”

“No apologies allowed. Let’s go up and get dinner before you implode.” As soon as he mentions it, Peter realizes that he _is_ hungry.

“That sounds good,” Peter agrees with a nod. It’s barely noticeable, but Tony is tense as they ride up in the elevator. He’s gripping the phone in his hand, obviously frustrated with something. Peter knows better than to bring it up a second time. When the elevator doors open, Pepper is leaning against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed. _Uh oh._

“Hey Peter,” she greets him with a tight-lipped smile. It’s painfully obvious that she’s ignoring Tony.

“Um, hi, Ms. Potts. How are you?” Her smile widens.

“I'm good, thank you for asking. How was your day out?” Peter glances up to Tony and notices he hasn't taken his eyes off Pepper.

“It was good?” Peter answers reluctantly. _I'm so confused._ Actually, he's surprised that his Spidey Sense isn't screaming at him due to the tension.

“I'm glad." Pepper says genuinely. "Dr. Cho is actually waiting for you in the Medbay. After your checkup, we can all have dinner. Sound alright?” she offers. Peter glances back up to Tony, but the man hasn't moved, so he just nods. Spidey Sense or not, something tells him he should leave before the tension explodes.

“Thank you, Ms. Potts.” He walks back into the elevator and F.R.I.D.A.Y. selects the Medbay floor for him. He hopes that whatever happens between Tony and Pepper, they don't tear apart the penthouse in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading :)
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	12. Trouble in Not-So-Paradise

“Alright, Mr. Parker, I think we’re done here,” Dr. Cho informs Peter as she types away at her computer. Thankfully she hasn't bombarded him with too many questions, only the necessities. She doesn't seem to be particularly emotional either, instead relying on calculation and rationale. However, she seems like a nice and an all-around friendly person.

“Thank you, Dr. Cho. I appreciate you coming out on such short notice,” Peter thanks sheepishly. He hates being a bother. Dr. Cho looks up from her typing and offers him a small smile.

“Not a problem. Now, let's go over what we talked about one more time. How are you going to prevent the sleep paralysis and apnea?” She figured out that Peter couldn't move or breathe last night because of sleep paralysis, which is apparently fairly common.

“I go to bed at the same time every night and get enough sleep.” _How in the world am I supposed to go to sleep at the same time when I'm out patrolling? It's not like I can control what time bad guys decide to leave Queens alone,_ Peter argues in his head. He’s just glad Tony didn't tell Dr. Cho about him being Spider-Man.

“Good. Besides that, you're in good shape for someone your age. I'd like to see you put on some weight, though.” If only Dr. Cho knew how much Peter had to eat in a day with his metabolism.

“I'll do my best,” he assures anyways.

“You're one of my most cooperative patients Stark has ever given me. It was a nice change of pace.” Dr. Cho smiles and Peter feels a strange sense of pride at her praise.

“Happy to help! Thanks again.”

“You're welcome. Have a good night.” With that, she closes her computer and they both leave the room. She walks down the hall, probably off to see another patient, and Peter walks back into the elevator. That went better than expected. Now he knows what caused the episode from last night _ and _ how to prevent it. He chuckles to himself, is this what progress feels like? But the further up he goes in the elevator, the faster his new hopes fade. His enhanced hearing allows him to hear voices through the walls, and they aren't happy.

“…not okay, Tony! How could you drag a  _ fifteen _ year old kid out of the country?! You can't just do that because of who you are!” It's Pepper’s voice without a doubt.

“I know it was a stupid move, okay? I was desperate and wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders! He’s not  _ that _ young, he can think for himself! He was almost fifteen!”

“He’s too young regardless! Fourteen is way too young, he couldn't even legally drive at that age! I don't want excuses! And I don't want to have to hold a shaking child in my arms who shouldn't even be old enough to have PTSD in the first place! You  _ saw  _ him!” The yelling gets louder as Peter approaches the penthouse floor.

“I did my damndest to protect that kid! Why the hell do you think I made him that suit?! He was swinging around in pajamas before I met him!”

“So instead of giving him a suit to keep him safe, you used the suit to bribe him to join your team? And then took away the  _ only  _ that could protect him?! When will you finally realize that your actions have consequences just like the rest of us?! He could've gotten killed!”

“You don't think I realize that?!” Tony’s voice gets more angry the more they argue.

“No! I don't think you do! The suit can't protect him if you take it away, Tony!”

“You don't know the whole story, alright?!”

“Obviously not! Communication is always too much for you! But no, I get no heads up that this poor kid is  _ shattered _ . Can't you see that?!”

“Of course I can!” Tony sounds…pained. “I see it every damn time I look at him! I can't even look at him without feeling guilty that this kid is going through hell and that it's because of  _ me _ _!_ And the kid’s so fucking selfless that I almost have to force him to talk about how he feels! He thinks he can get through it alone! I only get so much time with him, Pepper! I'm doing my best to fix the shit I screwed up!” The elevator doors slowly open, but Peter doesn't dare to move a muscle. Luckily he doesn't see them, so they must be in their room.  _ Do I make a run for my room? _ Before he can weigh out his options, Tony opens his bedroom door and slams it shut behind him. The man is breathing heavily and drags his hands through his slightly damp hair. Peter walks out of the elevator, acting like he didn't hear their fight. Tony stiffens  at Peter's entrance and instantly pulls himself together. It's scary how fast he can go from looking like a mess to looking moderately put-together.

“Hi, Mr. Stark. What’s, um, what’s up?”  _ Way to be awkward,  _ Peter internally berates himself.

“Hey, kid. Dinner’s in the fridge.” Tony doesn't look up at Peter. After a beat of silence, he walks towards Peter with his hands in his black sweatpants’ pockets. For a second Peter thinks Tony is coming over to talk to him, but the man walks past him. _ I should've known better. _

“Where, where are you going?” Peter stutters nervously.

“Workshop.” Tony is trying to be patient, Peter can tell.

“Do you maybe need some help? Y’know, if you want or need an extra pair of hands…”  _ Please don't make me be alone. _

“No thanks.” Without looking at Peter once, the elevator doors shut in front of Tony and he disappears. That went…worse than expected. For a brief second, Peter feels like knocking on Pepper’s door and even apologizing.  _ It’s my fault they got into a fight. _ He stops himself anyways, not wanting to bother her while she's obviously upset.  _ I just…I don't know what to do. Whenever things start to feel okay again, I somehow mess it up. It's starting to feel like a curse. _ He chuckles humorlessly to himself as he slowly walks to his room.  _ The Parker Curse. _

He glances once at the kitchen area, but he has lost his appetite. May has plenty of food at the apartment now that she knows he's Spider-Man and he's leaving tomorrow, so he continues to the guestroom. He quietly shuts the door behind him and flop onto the bed. With a much needed deep breath, he checks his phone. There’s a good handful of texts from Ned and a single text from May. All May's text says is “Call me when you can x.” Peter presses his lips together and ruffles up his stiff hair before calling her.

“Hey there,” May answers.

“Hi May.”

“What’d you two mischief-makers get into today?” she asks with a playful tone. Peter does his best to match her energy.

“I think you’ve mistaken us for someone else. We never do anything wrong.” He sounds as innocent as possible, a small smile making its way onto his face.

“Oh sure. Do you think I was born yesterday, young man?” May teases. Peter laughs quietly to not bother Pepper.

“We went to Mr. Delmar’s today for lunch.”

“Wow, that doesn't really seem like Stark’s…taste. How did Mr. Delmar react?”

“Actually, Mr. Stark was kinda undercover. We didn't want any paparazzi issues,” he answers honestly.

“How does it feel to be running around with a  _ celebrity _ .” May's sarcasm is extremely obvious.

“It comes with its perks,” Peter jokes.

“Like what?”  _ Like overhearing an argument between your idols. _

“Well, he bought me a suit today.” He shrugs, even though May can't see it. “Against my will, by the way,” he quickly adds. He hears May sigh.

“How much was it?” May hates it when Tony spends money on them.

“He, uh, wanted to get me a two thousand dollar suit, but I told him he couldn't do that. So I chose the cheapest one I could find, which was five hundred.”

“What’s with that man and spoiling you?”

“I dunno, it’s not like he doesn't have the money to throw around.”  _ Or he feels guilty. _ Peter immediately gets rid of the thought. Tony Stark feeling guilty? About  _ him _ _?_ He has more important things to worry about.

“I guess so. I still don't understand it. I just don't want us to be a charity case, Peter.” May sounds exhausted. Peter wonders how many extra shifts she has been taking.

“We aren't!” he assures her. “This weekend was just a one time thing. He's never done this before.” A loud beep sounds in the background on May's end of the call. Peter's heart rate immediately picks up. “Are you ok-”

“Oh! The rice is done!” May chirps excitedly. “I have to go, sweetheart.” Peter rubs his face and takes a deep breath.  _ I'm so on edge lately. _

“Please don't burn down the apartment,” he pleads with a hand still on his face.

“How would I do that with a crockpot?”

“You'd find a way.” May gasps over dramatically.

“Remind me to ground you when you get home.”

“Sorry, May! Can't hear you! Bye, love you!”

“Love you too, monster!” May laughs before ending the call. Then, Peter debates texting Ned. Not because he doesn't want to talk to his best friend, but because he doesn't want to accidentally dump all of today’s issues on Ned. Even though Peter and May only talked for a few minutes, he already feels too drained to be social anymore. He settles on sending Ned a quick text.

 

**_Guy in the Chair_ **

Peter:  _ hi Ned! it was a long day with mr. stark and i’ll give you all the details at school tomorrow but im gonna try to get some extra sleep. just didnt want you to think i was ignoring you. see you tomorrow! _

 

After he texts Ned, he drops his phone on the nightstand and puts his hands behind his head. It’s been a while since he has been able to just…relax. Usually he tries to avoid overthinking, but everything happened so fast that he didn't really get to process anything. It's just that no matter where he is, he always feels like a burden. May has to worry about getting them enough food and making sure he has everything he needs for school as well as Spider-Man now.  _ She's sacrificing her own time and sleep to pick up extra shifts because of me. Now when May finally gets some time to herself, I'm making a mess in Mr. Stark’s life. If I hadn't had that stupid panic attack the other night, then Ms. Potts wouldn't know what happened with Germany. She wouldn't blame him when it was my choice to go. I agreed! I should've done something while they were fighting and explained that it wasn't Mr. Stark’s fault. Spider-Man would've done the right thing. _

He rolls onto his side, facing away from the door. _ Do I really make Mr. Stark so upset that he can't even look at me? _ He grips the bed sheets in between his fingers.  _ Out of all the people I could've disappointed, why did it have to be him? _ The door suddenly creaks. He immediately freezes and tries to look like he's asleep. He does his best to breathe at an even pace regardless of his heart hammering against his chest. Slow footsteps approach his bed. _ Please let it be Ms. Potts. Please let it be Ms. Potts. Please le- _

“I know you're awake, kid.”  _ Crap. Busted. _ Peter sighs, not having the reserve to keep faking it, and sits up.

“Hey, Mr. Stark.” Peter’s eyes are fixated on the sheets. Surprisingly, Tony sits down on the bed.

“So, how much of our yelling did you hear?” he asks nonchalantly. Peter shrugs his shoulders.  _ Do I lie to make him feel better? Or do I tell him the truth to avoid secrets? Either way, it's a wrong choice. _

“I dunno. A lot of it, but nothing specific. Just yelling.”  _ Sure, Peter. You think he’s going to believe that when you have enhanced hearing? _ There’s a brief pause, but Peter doesn't dare to look up at Tony. “Are you guys gonna be okay?” His voice is hopeful and slightly strained. He doesn't want them to break up because of him.

“Yeah, we will. Probably.” That's reassuring. It feels like Tony is about to say something else, but stops himself. “Hey, I was thinking about a change in your interning schedule, if you should choose to accept it.” His tone is a bit lighter.

“Since when do I have an interning schedule?”

“Since now.” Peter finally looks up at him, drawing his eyebrows together.

“But my ‘internship,’” he uses air quotes “is doing Spider-Man stuff like patrolling.” Actually, his patrols are the entire internship.

“Well this happens to be Spider-Man related.” Peter’s eyes instantly widen. Something new involving Spider-Man? “Don't pass out on me. All I was going to suggest is that we try some training,” Tony offers.

“What kind of training?” Peter questions with excitement suddenly evident.

“Holograms. That way, you'll be able to train your reflexes and sixth sense or whatever the hell it is that you have.” Tony waves it off.

“I like to call it my Spidey Sense.” Peter smiles proudly.

“Sure. That's cute, kid. Anyways, in order for the training to be beneficial, I think it’d be constructive for you to come train here after school.” Peter’s jaw almost drops.

“Like, everyday?” he clarifies.

“Everyday. Preferably. We might have to tweak the schedule here ‘n there but yeah, that's the idea. Sound good?” Peter nods vigorously before Tony even finishes. “Good. Glad we worked that out. Happy's gonna drive you to school tomorrow morning and will be picking you up from now on. Don't worry, he'll drive you home too so Aunt May doesn't murder me.” Tony winces slightly, probably at the memory of May giving him what-for about Germany and Homecoming.

“Sounds perfect! Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. You won't regret it! I promise!” Peter really hopes that he can keep that promise.

“I don't doubt you for a second, kid. Well, g’night. Sweet dreams, and all that,” Tony says dismissively. He stands up and makes his way out of the room in strides, closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	13. When You Least Expect It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO ENDGAME SPOILS HERE OR IN THE COMMENTS but I saw it and phew...I wish you all luck
> 
> Fun chapter today! Minor TW for blood if that bothers you. We also get a new appearance :) Have fun reading and stay safe! Especially if you see Endgame twice!
> 
> -Kevy

The next morning, Tony is leaning on the kitchen counter with a coffee cup in his hand and a wrinkle free suit on. Peter wonders what he’s all dressed up for…besides owning his own company. He debates eating Tony’s food for breakfast, but hunger pains quickly win his internal argument. There’s a half full box of mildly stale corn flakes in the kitchen, which is better than nothing.

“Happy’s outside waiting for you when you're ready,” Tony informs as Peter is finishing his cereal. Peter nods, drinking the last of the milk from his bowl.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark! Have a good day!” _Be enthusiastic, Peter. You can't drag them down anymore._

“You too. See you after school,” Tony reminds. Peter quickly remembers that they start the new training today. How could he forget something like that?

“Yeah!” As soon as he agrees, he's headed down to the ground floor in the elevator. The familiar black Cadillac is waiting outside and he wastes no time in hopping in the passenger seat. “Morning, Happy,” he greets, shutting the door.

“Morning.” Happy eyes Peter’s lone backpack. “Where's all the stuff you got yesterday?”

“Oh, I decided to leave the suit and the extra clothes here. I wanna have the backups just in case I have to stay the weekend again. That and I don't trust myself to carry around a five hundred dollar suit at school.” Happy slowly nods in understanding and starts the engine. They sit in comfortable silence on the fortunately short drive to school.

“I'm picking you up after school, so don't make Tony reprimand me for you being late.” Happy gives Peter a pointed look, who smiles innocently.

“C’mon, Happy, have a little faith! I'm sure I'm, like, the most punctual person you know,” Peter assures him, his smile never faltering.

“Yeah yeah, get outta here.” Happy shoos him away with his hand. Peter laughs and gets out of the car with his backpack slung over his shoulder. Happy adjusts his sunglasses and nods to Peter before driving off. Luckily, Peter is early enough that he doesn't think anyone noticed the Cadillac dropping him off. Shoving the earphones back in his ears, he walks into Midtown High with his head down to try to block out the rest of the world. He immediately walks to his first class, knowing that he won't see Ned until the first passing period.

Classes are as boring as always and he finds his leg bouncing impatiently until the bell rings to signal the end of class. He’s one of the first people out of the classroom and walks straight to his locker. Thankfully, Ned is already waiting for him at their lockers. Peter weaves through the people in the crowded hallway and as soon as Ned sees him, his eyes widen.

“Dude!” Ned practically squeals. He grabs onto Peter's sleeve and yanks him towards the lockers.

“Hey!” Peter tries to protest.

“Where were you yesterday?! You, like, dropped off the face of the planet! I didn't have _anything_ to do this weekend ‘cause apparently Sp-” Peter clamps a hand over Ned’s mouth and shushes him.

“Secret identity, remember? Ring a bell?” Peter whispers aggressively. It’s a good thing the halls are so loud during passing.

“Sorry,” Ned whispers. “But seriously! I was _so_ bored and you text me out of nowhere that you've been hanging out with _Tony Freaking Stark?!”_ He tries to keep talking, his words devolving into excited gibberish. Peter tries to quiet him down, but it's hard when he’s laughing himself.

“Don't short circuit! I'll tell you all about it, just calm down.” Ned puts his hand on his own chest and gets his breath back.

“I'm best friends with a superhero who happens to be the apprentice of the richest man in the world who's _also_ a freaking superhero,” he rambles quietly. “Our lives are unreal.”

“Hey, you're a superhero too. You help me out big time.” Peter smiles, knowing this will make his day. Ned’s eyes slowly widen and he starts squealing incoherently again. Their brief moment of enjoyment is quickly interrupted by three simple words.

“Hey! Penis Parker!” _Great._ Peter’s smile instantly drops and Ned rolls his eyes.

“What do you want, Flash?” Ned grumbles. Flash ignores him, turning to face Peter with his arms crossed.

“How’s it feel to be _best buds_ with Spider-Man now that he's a joke?” Flash antagonizes. “Assuming you even knew him to begin with.”

“He's not a joke,” Peter defend.

“He's not, huh? Then how come a video of him screwing up is going viral?” _Oh._ Peter immediately knows what video Flash is talking about. The memory of the illusion of falling debris is still way too fresh in his mind. Leave it to Flash to somehow insult both Peter _and_ his secret identity.

“It’s none of your business.” _Keep your cool and he’ll lose interest._

“I bet it's because your bad luck rubbed off on him. I'm surprised Ned still hangs around you.” Peter faces his locker to hide his clenched fists. _Deep breaths._

“You really don't have anything better to do with your life than to put other people down?” Peter questions.

“Why? Scared I'm right?” Flash demands back.

“You're not even right in class, so what would make you right this time?” Ned asks with a smug expression. Peter’s eyes widen in shock and he looks at Ned in disbelief. _Did, did he really just say that? That was awesome!_

“You’re so dead, Leeds!” _Less awesome!_ Peter prepares himself to defend Ned, but the ceiling suddenly starts shaking. _What’s going on? Is it an earthquake?_ The hall goes quiet as everyone starts to look up. Out of nowhere, large cracks start to form on the ceiling and travel down to the walls. That's when people start running and screaming. Everyone's tripping over each other trying to get out, but Peter is just trying to find a way to get into his suit without anyone seeing. He tries not to think of the fact that the ceiling could fall on them at any moment. His heart pounds at the thought, but he knows now isn't the time for PTSD. Ned stays close to him as everyone panics around them. A massive piece of concrete falls from above us and plummets menacingly towards the ground. Towards Ned.

“Ned!” Peter tackles him out of the way and prepares his senses for the loud crash. But it doesn't come. He looks behind them…and there's not a trace of broken concrete. His head whips towards the ceiling only for him to see that there isn't so much as a scratch on it. For a brief second he's confused, then dread settles in his stomach. It was an illusion. _Mysterio. Why’s he here?! Dammit I should've know something was off when my Spidey Sense didn't alert me!_ Some people stop when they notice the ceiling is fine, but everyone's moving again when the fire alarm starts to blare.

“You have to do your _thing!_ You know!” Ned shouts over the yelling.

“Yeah, I know! Get outside!”

“Peter, I'm not leaving you alone!” Ned and Peter are the last ones in the hallway, so Peter pulls the suit out of his backpack.

“I'm not telling you to! Get outside so I don't have to worry about you getting hurt and then connect to Karen!” he practically orders. He hates telling Ned what to do, but he can't focus if he's worrying about his best friend too. If anything ever happened to Ned, Peter doesn't know how he'd make it. Ned is conflicted at first, then groans.

“Fine, but you better make it out of this or I'm going to kill you!” He runs for the front doors and by the time he’s out, Peter is fully in his suit.

“Hello, Peter. Aren't you supposed to be in Biology?” Karen greets him.

“Karen, we have a bit of a situation!” he tells her frantically, his voice cracking with anxiety.

“The fire alarm seems to have been activated. I recommend evacuating the immediate area.” He starts running through the halls, seeing if he can find anyone or even Mysterio.

“I need a scan of the school! Let me know if anyone's still inside!” He ignores her concerns. The fire alarm was most likely used as a distraction to get everyone out, but he still doesn't get why Mysterio would be _here_ if all places.

“Sure thing.” His interface x-rays the school, allowing him to see into the other rooms.

“Peter?!” Ned's frantic voice makes its way into Peter’s suit.

“Ned! Are you okay?! Can you see anything?!” Peter rounds a corner, but hasn't seen a single person.

“Yeah, man! I'm fine! I don't see anything from out here, but I think all the teachers are out here rounding people up.”

“Good! I haven't seen anyone inside, so I think everyone's out. But I haven't seen Mysterio either, so keep an eye out and stay sa-”

“Who are you screaming at?” MJ’s voice asks Ned, her voice bleeding into Peter’s suit.

“Uh, no one!” Ned instantly denies.

“Where's your partner in crime?” MJ asks instead, her tone unconvinced. _Crap, she's too smart for our own good._

“What, what do you mean?” _Oh Ned, you're hopeless._

“Peter. Your boyfriend.” Peter hears Ned practically choke and he has to hold back a laugh in order to focus. Ned stammers as Peter continues to search.

“There seems to only be a single individual inside the building,” Karen reports as the gray outline of a person appears in the Chemistry lab down the hall. It’s not detailed, but it’s definitely Mysterio and it looks like he's rummaging through the lab.

“Ned, we found him!” Peter sprints to the end of the hall.

“That’s great, _grandma!_ We’re all safe outside!” Ned says pointedly. Peter's eyes narrow in confusion.  _Grandma? I don't even want to know._

“Just don't let anyone come inside! I don't want anyone getting hurt!” he urges.

“How am I supposed to do that?!” Ned whispers harshly.

“Uh…” Peter skids to a stop and readies his web-shooters. “Use your imagination! Karen, circulate the air that’s already in my suit and filter out any toxins.” He remembers Tony saying something similar when they fought Mysterio last time, so it should help with any possible hallucinations.

“I’ll do my best, Peter.” It’s enough of a confirmation for him to feel confident enough to fight this guy head on. Mysterio is towards the back of the classroom where the storage cabinets are, which already doesn't bode well. That's where the teachers keep the more acidic, basic, and all-around dangerous chemicals only used for specific experiments. _Bad. Very bad._ Peter quietly opens the door and jumps onto the ceiling, crawling his way towards Mysterio. As he gets closer, he notices that the bottles in Mysterio’s hands are labelled cyanide, chlorine, and ammonia. _Even worse. I can't let him leave with those chemicals._ Of course Mysterio just has to steal from one of the least guarded, most equipped science schools in the area. Peter carefully crawls until he’s right above Mysterio, then shoots a Web Grenade. The cartridge attaches to Mysterio’s armor with a _ting_ and he immediately whips around with a flourish from his dark purple cape. The Web Grenade starts beeping.

“Hey, Fishbowl! Long time, no see!”

“Why you little-” The Web Grenade explodes, encasing him from head to toe in webbing.

“Why do people keep calling me little?!” Peter demands, offended as he pops in a new web cartridge.

“Because you’re nothing but a mildly irritating insect!” Suddenly, the webs around Mysterio start to disintegrate and he easily breaks free once they're weakened. Well, that makes things a bit more difficult. Smoke begins to flow from the nozzles in his suit and he chuckles deeply. Peter swings down from the ceiling with his feet extended in front of him, ready to kick Mysterio back. Of course, he flies right through Mysterio’s image and has to land on the floor instead. These illusions are ridiculous!

“What are you doing back in high school? Didn't pass the first time?” he questions as he carefully looks around. Karen turns on infrared vision for him, but the smokescreen prevents him from seeing heat signatures just like last time.

“I don't have time for your antics!” Mysterio yells back, but his voice comes from all directions.

“Awe, c’mon! Don't be ashamed! It’s never too late to get your GED!” Peter sends a Net Web in hopes that he'll somehow, miraculously hit the villain? He can only do so much when he can't see. “Droney, scope out as much as you can and let me know if you can see Mysterio.” Droney pops out of his chest and beeps in confirmation before flying away.

“Not so confident without all your senses are you, _Spider-Man?”_ Mysterio’s voice taunts.

“Hey Karen, I don't suppose we have a giant fan in the suit that I could use to blow away all the smoke?”

“We do not. I'm sorry, Peter,” Karen apologizes.

“Of course not. That'd be too easy.” Oh well, can't just stand around doing nothing. Peter runs through the smoke, avoiding desks and lab equipment. Hoping that it'll get him a better vantage point, he leaps onto the ceiling again. As soon as he does, multiple chemical filled beakers are hurled at him. “Woah!” He uses the ceiling as a platform to jump towards the ground to avoid the beakers. The glass…doesn't shatter. The beakers disappear as soon as they reach the ceiling. _Crap, my Spidey Sense would've warned me about them if they were real. I need to pay better attention to it._ “Don't you have any other tricks to use?!”

“Why use something new when you keep falling for the same thing?” Mysterio…makes a good point, and Peter hates it. Droney sends Peter a visual feed of Mysterio standing within the smoke as a cover, but the villain is in front of the whiteboard. Peter swings to the front of the classroom and as soon as Mysterio is in view, he shoots two webs that attach to Mysterio’s chest. Peter gives them a harsh tug and Mysterio stumbles forward, slightly off balance. It's enough to give Peter an opening to kick Mysterio off his feet in one fluid motion, sending him into the whiteboard. Peter effortlessly flips out of his attack and lands with a leg extended at his side. Mysterio’s collision leaves a crater in the whiteboard, bits and pieces of it cracking and falling to the ground.

“I consider myself pretty adaptable,” Peter brags with the nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Mysterio quickly recovers and pushes one of the desks forward with such force that the metal legs leaves behind black scratches in the floor. The table rockets towards Peter and he flips over it, landing just in time for his Spidey Sense to scream at him to move. Another desk flies through the air, but there’s no time to duck. Instead, he shoots a web and redirects it in a circle to hurls it back towards Mysterio. The table passes through him and collides with the already destroyed whiteboard.

“No! You, uh, you can't go in there! Sir, please don't go in there!” Ned’s voice comes back into Peter’s suit. His Spidey Sense warns him just in time to dodge a punch and he shoots a Splitter Web into the smokescreen in hopes that they will attach to Mysterio. There's a distant voice on the other end. “Why not? Well, I saw, I saw a, uh,” Ned stumbles over his words. Peter’s webs connect to nothing and Mysterio reappears only to continue throwing precise punches.

“Now’s kind of a bad time, Ned!” _Mysterio has to have some kind of training or agility enhancement to be keeping up with me,_ Peter thinks as he dodges the villain’s punches.

“I know your weakness, Spider-Man,” Mysterio declares.

“Oh yeah? Please, feel free share it with the rest of the class.” Peter webs a nearby metal stand and flings it at him. It forces Mysterio to jump back, creating a more comfortable distance between them. Still, he raises his arms outward and the walls start to shake.

“You want to save everyone.” The walls start to move inward.

“I feel like that's the weakness of any decent human being,” Peter banters nervously. _He can't move the walls like that. It's just an illusion, Pete. Don't let your claustrophobia get the better of you._ He shoots a Splitter Web that attaches to both of Mysterio’s extended arms and tugs on them as a counter momentum to get himself airborne. Once he’s above Mysterio, he fires a web from each hand to the floor propel himself downwards. He lands on Mysterio to drive him into the floor. When his feet make contact with Mysterio’s back, the man quickly dissipates into…butterflies? This is trippy. Peter lands and darts his head around for any other oncoming attacks.

“You’ll quickly learn that not everyone can be saved.” Mysterio’s voice is omnidirectional again. Peter just has to wait for Droney’s feed again and then he’ll know where the villain actually is.

“Then again,” Peter continues, ignoring the villain, “I don't think you qualify as a decent human.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, his Spidey Sense explodes again before a metal cabinet is crashing into him. _It should've warned me sooner than that!_ It sends him careening into the onslaught of desks, which all break around him. “Did I hit a nerve?” he groans, but gets up no worse for wear. When he looks up, Mysterio’s boots are _somehow_ allowing him to walk on the ceiling. “Hey! You better not be trying to steal my schtick!” Peter accuses while shooting a web at Mysterio’s helmet. Again, Peter jumps onto the ceiling and uses the adhesiveness of his feet to pry Mysterio off and fling him towards the ground. Mysterio lands expertly without breaking a sweat…Peter assumes. Since he can't see the man's forehead…

“Make your jokes while you still can,” Mysterio threatens, but Peter shoots a Taser Web. This time he aims for Mysterio’s oxygen tanks. Without the tanks, he can't have his own air supply separate from the gases he weaponizes. The tanks burst with a sharp clang and a hiss as the oxygen escapes.

“Yes!” Peter celebrates with a fist in the air. “Try using your handy dandy hallucination gas now!” Mysterio growls in frustration before the increased smoke around them envelops him. Peter hangs from the ceiling by the fingertips of his left hand and has his right arm extended to shoot a web at a moment’s notice. “Ned, how’s it going out there?” Peter asks while scanning the cloud of mist. Droney can't see a damn thing because of the smokescreen. _I need to upgrade him at the workshop,_ he makes a mental note.

“I mean, it could be worse?” Ned’s already unconvinced voice answers.

“I don't wanna know, do I…”

“The police are here and firefighters are ready to go inside,” he informs Peter anyways. _Shit_.

“Hey, could we hurry this up? I have super important hero related things to do!” Peter crawls down to the ground and webs the windows across from him to pull them open. _If I can get a cross breeze, it might give me or Droney a better visual._

“Be careful what you wish for, Spider. You will regret underestimating me!” Metal beaker stands are thrown towards Peter out of the the cloud, but he doesn't move a muscle. The illusions fly through him harmlessly and he smirks, even though he knows Mysterio can't see it. Another illusion of a metal stand is aimed directly for Peter and he can't help but feel confident.

“Ha! You think that trick’s gonna get me again?” The smile under his mask drops when his Spidey Sense goes off. “Oh crap.” He drops from the ceiling to avoid the rocketing metal stand. It crashes into the ceiling, where he was mere seconds before, and breaks apart. “Overkill much?” He lands, only to have the familiar tingling sensation spread to his shoulders before a strong kick from a metal boot sends his flying. The wooden classroom door splinters around him and his back slams into the adjacent lockers, which crumple inward and wrap around his body. He shakes his head and blinks a few times to clear his surprise. When his eyes focus, Mysterio presses his boot into his chest, pushing him further into the crushed lockers.

“Not so witty now, are you?” _Challenge accepted_.

“Y’know,” Peter croaks “this is taking the ‘stuffing the nerd into the locker’ cliché a bit too far, dontcha think?” The metal around him groans at the pressure. _There has to be some kind of mechanism in his boots that repels a surface too, not just cling to one. But now’s not the time to figure that out, Peter._

“I'm going to make you suffer. They won't even remember someone like _you._ They'll remember _me_.” _What the hell kind of drugs is this guy on?!_ A jagged piece of broken metal digs itself into Peter's side and he can't help the scream that catches him off guard. He hasn't felt a burning sensation like it since Homecoming. _Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic. Don't think about how you're being crushed again. You can't do this right now!_ His breathing picks up. In a desperate attempt to break free from the crushing pressure, he grips Mysterio’s metal boot on either side and squeezes. The boot whines as the metal bends around his hands and finally Mysterio pulls back. Peter pries himself out of the lockers and hops to his feet, somewhat ready to continue the fight. Mysterio’s boot sparks, which apparently is enough of a loss to make him run. Peter shoots a Spider-Tracer from his wrist, but when it attaches to Mysterio’s back, it's immediately zapped off. A circular hole appears in the wall and Mysterio runs through it. _When did this turn into one of those weird roadrunner cartoons?_ Peter swings towards the hole after Mysterio, but it suddenly disappears and he lands on the wall instead. _Great, should've seen that coming._

“Peter? Peter?! Are you there?!” Ned’s frantic voice assaults his ears.

“Yeah, man. I'm here. Do you see anything outside? Mysterio just ran out,” Peter sighs. _I thought I was supposed to get better with experience! So far I’ve climbed the Washington Monument, broken out of a deep storage vault, held a ferry together, and crashed one of Mr. Stark’s planes all for what? To let a weirdo with a glass dome get away?_

“We haven't seen anything. Not even a sign of you guys fighting! Everyone thinks someone set off the alarms as a prank.” As long as they don't blame _Spider-Man_ for it, then that's fine. Peter winces when he twists the wrong way

“Alright. Can you meet me in the bathroom?” He looks down to the source of the stinging on his torso. The metal sliced right through his suit, just above his hip. Dark red blood soaks the fabric around the rip in his suit. Dark red is good. Bright red would mean he hit an artery.

“I don't think we can go back inside yet. You better hurry though, the firefighters just went in!”

“Okay, okay. I'll hide out in the bathrooms and then sneak out through one of the windows. I'll text you when I'm out. Karen, end call.” Karen hangs up the phone for Peter and he swings towards the bathrooms. He webs his backpack towards him on the way by so that he can change.

“Your suit has been breached. You seem to have a ten inch laceration on your abdomen and your blood pressure is decreasing,” Karen breaks the silence. As soon as he reaches the bathroom, Peter rushes to and locks himself inside a stall. He carefully pulls the top of his suit below his waist to reveal the cut. He winces again, but this time it’s more at how it looks than at the pain. Luckily it’s already starting to clot, but a thin line of crimson drips down his side. He takes a steadying breath and starts unrolling the roll of toilet paper next to him. “Peter, if you don't respond I’ll be forced to call Tony Stark as specified in the Baby Monitor Protocol.” _He still has that thing on?! Oh god, if he saw me like this he’d take the suit away in a heartbeat. That can't happen._

“I'm fine! See? I've got it handled!” he quickly argues as he wraps his torso in sheet after sheet of toilet paper until there are multiple layers around it. The blood instantly soaks into the toilet paper, but it should be enough to keep the cut from bleeding onto his clothes. It’ll be healed in a day, if not less. He just has to pretend that he doesn't have a cut from his ribs to his hip. Easy peasy. He takes a deep breath to compose himself before changing into his regular clothes. _I can't believe it's not even safe at school anymore._

“The medical attention you provided is not satisfactory. I'm afraid I will have to contact Tony Stark if you do not receive proper medical attention,” she informs as he slips on his jeans.

“Not satisfactory? Are you trying to insult me, Karen?” he teases, trying to get away from the subject of Tony.

“I wouldn't even dream of it, Peter.” He playfully rolls his eyes.

“Happy’s picking me up, so I'll get some help at the Tower. Okay?” Peter Parker: The Compulsive Liar.

“That sounds alright,” Karen concedes.

“Sweet. Thanks, Karen.” He carefully pulls his backpack onto his shoulder. _How am I going to train like this?_

“My pleasure.” He takes the mask off and stuffs it into his backpack with the rest of his damaged suit. Before he tests his luck any further, he easily climbs out through one of the windows. He does his best to use nearby trees as a cover to make his way back to the group of students and teachers, hopefully unseen. He breathes a sigh of relief when he makes it to Ned and casually bumps into him. Ned whips around and looks at Peter with wide eyes.

“Dude, are you okay?!” he whispers.

“Yeah, I'm good. Mysterio got away though,” Peter mumbles with an aggravated exhale.

“I'm glad you're okay, though. I always get more anxious when I can't help you with my laptop.” Peter lets himself smile and shakes his head.

“You still helped, man. I appreciate it.” He holds his hand out and Ned instinctively accepts the offer for their best friend handshake. Once they finish, MJ walks up to them with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“Peter Parker always seems to be MIA, hm?” she questions while raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, well, uh, you see, he was,” Ned starts.

“I went to call my aunt,” Peter interjects. “She gets super worried so I wanted to let her know what was going on before she saw anything on the news.” _Actually, that’s probably what I should do. May’s gonna flip. But that's three, let’s count ‘em together,_ three _lies in a row._ MJ seems unconvinced, but then suddenly shrugs.

“Alright. See ya, nerds.” She walks back into the crowd.

“What’s with her?” Ned asks, shocked.

“Not a clue.” Peter shakes his head slowly. “Hey, I'm going to text May and I guess I'll call Happy.”

“Why call Happy?” Ned narrows his eyes in confusion. _Oh that's right, I didn't tell him._

“Mr. Stark wants me to train with him after school from now on.”

“Holy crap, dude!” All Peter does is smile before quickly sending a text to May to let her know what's going on and that Tony wants him to go to the Tower after school days for extra training. A few moments after he sends the text, he calls Happy.

“What is it?” is the first thing Happy says. Cheerful as always.

“Hey, Happy. We had a, uh, _situation_ at school. I can swing over to the Tower if you can't pick me up right now, but I just wanted you to kn-”

“No. I can pick you up,” Happy insists curtly. Where’s a Staples Easy Button when you need it?

“Are you sure?”

“It’s literally my job. I’ll be there in fifteen or less. Everyone okay?” Peter looks around at the crowd.

“Yeah, I think so. I'll tell you about everything when you get here.” Peter doesn't exactly want to relay everything, but he knows Happy is going to ask regardless.

“Sounds good. See you soon.” Happy hangs up and Peter rubs his face, already thinking of better excuses before his ride arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading ;-;
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	14. Miscommunication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! How are we all feeling emotionally? Hope you're all doing well after Endgame and if you haven't seen it yet, hope you have fun! Just a reminder: NO SPOILERS IN THE COMMENTS THANK YOU!
> 
> Very angsty chap today for drama's sake, but it'll lead to some fluff on Saturday :) As always, thank you for all the support whether it's through kudos or the comments, I appreciate it so much<3 Have fun reading and safe safe!
> 
> -Kevy

Peter and Ned chat quietly about what happened at school while Peter waits for Happy to arrive. The firefighters came back outside when they found no evidence of there ever being smoke, let alone a fire. Principal Morita wasn't happy, to say the least. It's safe to assume that he’ll be investigating. He still cancelled school, which both Ned and Peter are grateful for. Happy arrives a few minutes later in the Bentley and motions over Peter. The crowd quiets as they stare at the appearance of the luxury car. So much for keeping a low profile.

“Sorry.” Ned gives Peter a sympathetic look, who returns a tight-lipped smile.

“It’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Peter picks up his backpack, careful to not let the pain of his side show in his movements.

“Are we you know…? Tonight?” Ned asks eagerly, obviously talking about patrol.

“God I hope so. I’ll text you.” With a deep breath, Peter jogs up to the car and slides into the passenger seat. “Hey, Happy.”

“Hey, kid.” The voice doesn't come from Happy. Peter jumps slightly and whips around to face the voice behind him. Tony is leaning forward from the backseat with an innocent smile. The gash on Peter’s side aches at his sudden movement, but he doesn't show it.

“Mr. Stark?! What are you doing here?!” he practically demands with wide eyes.

“To be honest with you, I'm insulted. A crazy thing goes down at school and you call _Happy_ _?”_ Tony acts insulted. Honestly, he had been worried and anxious the whole ride to Midtown. Though, he’d never admit it.

“Wanna run that by me again?” Happy challenges while driving out of the parking lot.

“Why don't you ever sit in the front seat like a normal person?!” Peter questions followed by a deep breath.

“Because I'm not an ordinary person, I'm _extraordinary_ _,”_ Tony corrects. _Someone please put me out of my misery_ _,_ Peter hopes.

“But you didn't need to come. I had everything handled,” Peter assures, even though it’s only a half truth.

“What exactly was it that you handled?” Tony inquires. _Oh, I set myself up for that one,_ Peter internally berates.

“I'll tell you if you put your seatbelt on.” Peter nods towards the backseat. Tony raises both his eyebrows, unamused, but sits back and buckles his seatbelt nonetheless. “So, Mysterio may or may not have made an appearance at school.” The car falls deadly silent.

“And you didn't _call me?!_ _”_ Tony demands, his anxiety skyrocketing. Peter resists the urge to roll his eyes. _Oh now he wants to communicate? After that whole issue where he wouldn't listen to anything I said?_ He takes a steadying breath to keep his temper from showing.

“No, because I had it handled. Just like I said. I tried to plant a tracer on him…but it didn't work and he got away,” he mutters regrettably.

“Next time, you tell Karen to contact me. You understand? I don't want you dealing with that creep again.” Peter scoffs and turns to face Tony.

“I'm my own hero, Mr. Stark! I can take care of myself and I've done a lot to prove that,” Peter defends. He tries not to think about how he lost the fight _and_ got hurt. He doesn't want to keep disappointing Tony.

“You’re sixteen. You’re not even a legal adult. So, no, _legally_ you can't take care of yourself.” Tony has a tone of finality in his voice.

“You know that I'm not like other teenagers! If you didn't think I could handle myself, you wouldn't have taken me to Germany.” As soon as Peter says it, he regrets it. Tony’s face hardens for half a second, but he covers it up almost instantly.

“This isn't up for debate. You don't pursue anything that has to do with Mysterio or I'm telling Aunt May. No stunts. Lord knows if anything happens to you she’ll murder me.” He rubs his forehead and takes a deep breath. Peter faces forward, opting to not argue and trying to refrain from overthinking. _So he only cares about what happens to me because of how May will react? No, don't think like that, Peter. I'm sure he didn't mean it like that…_ Tony clears his throat, trying to break the tension. “Now that we have that over with, tell us what happened.” Peter bites the inside of his cheek and flips through the information in his head.

“Well, he got everyone out by using a massive illusion. Like, the ceiling shook and there were huge cracks. Everyone thought the ceiling was coming down so they ran. Then the fire alarm went off so no one else was inside. I changed into my suit and found Mysterio in the Chem Lab. He was trying to take bottles of ammonia, chlorine, and cyanide. I think I got to him before he could take any, but I'm not sure.” Peter explains everything as he stares out the window. Tony hums in thought.

“Those could be precursors to some very not-so-fun hallucinogenic neurotoxins. Like-”

“Lysergic acid diethylamide, phencyclidine, ketamine. Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” Peter finishes. There's a slight pause as Tony stares at him.

“Actually I was gonna say LSD and PCP, but that works too. Either way, bad juju. Another reason for you to not be anywhere near that lunatic,” Tony grumbles. Peter tries to bite his sarcastic tongue.

“Then what do you plan on doing? He could be creating anything from a hallucinogen to a mass dispersed poison.” _If he would just let me help then we’d catch this guy faster. I'm not dumb and I'm not unfamiliar with chemistry! I_ did _create my own web fluid after all._

“That's for me to worry about. All you have to worry about is helping the little guy.” _Funny how he thinks he can control me, especially after what happened at homecoming_ _,_ Peter thinks bitterly. “Still, I have your training set up for today. Can never be too safe.” Tony clicks his tongue against his teeth. Peter interlaces his fingers and takes a shaky breath.

“Well, why are we training when you're saying I can't fight him? Might as well just work on upgrades for the suit instead.” Peter tries to be as nonchalant as he can to not seem suspicious.

“Because you use your ‘Spidey Sense’ on a daily basis. Mysterio or not, you need to be as aware as possible,” Tony points out. Peter’s leg starts bouncing as he considers his options. _I could ask May to call me to get me out of this, but then I’d have to explain to her why I don't want to hangout with Mr. Stark. That isn't something I’d normally do. It’s okay, I can convince him. Hopefully._

When they get to the Tower, Happy drops Peter and Tony off without a word. Tony and Peter walk into the elevator and F.R.I.D.A.Y. takes them to the workshop. It’s as busy as always with Dum-E and U somehow keeping themselves busy. Either that or Tony sent them on another wild goose chase.

“So, um, where are we training? Are we working with the holograms in here or…?” Peter nervously wrings his hands together.

“Yep. You’ll need to put on the suit first,” Tony says absentmindedly as he preps the holograms. _No, he can't see the suit._

“Actually I was thinking, what about instead of training today we could, we could work on Droney? His scanner hasn't been working through the smokescreens so I thought it would help if we worked on that,” Peter rambles lamely. Tony stops what he’s doing to look at Peter.

“Don't you think training is a bit more important?” Tony questions.

“Of course! I'm just saying, why not do this while it’s fresh in our minds? I mean, I just fought with Mysterio so it makes sense to work on it right away, y’know?” Peter continues to ramble and Tony raises an eyebrow.

“Why don't you want to train?” Peter freezes.

“I'm not saying I don't want to train!” he quickly defends, which only adds to Tony’s skepticism. “I'm just prioritizing.”

“Priority is your reflexes keeping you alive. Not fixing some drone the size of my thumb.” Tony’s voice is firm and he crosses his arms. Peter starts to panic. _If he sees the suit there’s no way he’ll miss the giant rip and dried blood._

“I get that but-”

“No buts. I'm right and you know it.” _Why does he always need to have the last word?_

“It’s not about being right! I'm trying to do something that’ll make me better during a fight and you-”

“Why are you fighting me so much on this?” Tony asks, a tad of his impatience showing.

“Because!” Peter can't find a better excuse. His thoughts are moving too fast.

“Now, I'm gonna ask again. Why don't you want to train? You were so giddy about it this morning. No secrets, kid. That’s what got us into that Vulture mess first place.” That's what sets Peter’s rage over the edge.

“No, what got us into that mess was you not taking me seriously.” Tony is slightly taken aback, raising both his eyebrows. What on Earth has gotten into this kid?

“Excuse me? I sent the FBI. You can't get much more serious than that.”

“But you didn't communicate! How was I supposed to know?!” Peter raises his voice, unaware of the feelings he had been holding in for the last six months.

“You don't get to backtalk!” Tony raises his voice to match Peter’s.

“That’s how a conversation works! People talk! But I wouldn't expect you to know that.” Peter’s breathing races and he can hear the blood pumping through his ears.

“A conversation goes both ways, kid.” Tony says through clenched teeth. “I can't help you if you don't communicate with me and frankly, your teenage hormones aren't helping your case.”

“Mr. Stark!” Peter’s face flushes and he can't think of anything to do but clench his fists in frustration.

“So how about we just take a few breaths and work this out,” Tony proposes, even though Peter can hear the tension in his voice. Before Peter can respond, Tony extends a hand to rest on his shoulder. Peter’s temper flares and he aggressively swipes his hand away. The sudden, sharp movement pulls at his laceration and he can't hold back the gasp. His hands shoot up to cover his side. “Peter?” All the frustration in Tony's voice is gone in an instant.

“Nothing! I'm fine.” Warm liquid spreads over Peter’s hands. _Crap, the blood soaked through the toilet paper. Ha, of course it did. It's toilet paper._ He faces away from Tony and tries to take deep breaths.

“You are _not fine_. Let-”

“Stomach ache. I need to go to the bathroom,” he mutters, but a firm hand grips his shoulder.

“Let me see,” Tony orders. Peter’s heart hammers against his chest. Still, he slowly turns around with his eyes cast down and removes his hands. Both of his palms are smeared with red. His button-up shirt already has a stain from the blood. He doesn't dare to look at Tony’s reaction.

“For fuck’s sake,” Tony mutters. His voice is slightly unsteady as he wonders how he didn't notice this before.

“I swear it's not as bad as it looks! It's already healing! Well, it was…” _I just don't want to be a burden,_ Peter’s words go unspoken.

“Like hell it is!” Tony snaps. Peter knows that's his cue to shut up. “Fri, get Bruce or Helen or someone in here now! I don't give a shit who it is!” Tony runs a hand through his hair, successfully messing it up, and throws his sunglasses off to the side.

“I'm sorry, Boss, but both Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho are outside the facility at the moment. Would you like me to call the Medbay?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. answers patiently.

“Mother f-” He drags out the “f,” but surprisingly doesn't cuss. “No. Dum-E, bring me the first-aid.” Dum-E makes a whistle of confirmation before extending its long…arm? Face? Appendage? It's unclear.

“Mr. Stark, I-”

“No. _No._ I can't talk to you right now or my blood pressure is going to explode.” He raises a finger at Peter, who closes his mouth again. “Go sit on the couch.” Peter keeps his eyes on the floor and walks over to the couch, but then stops.

“I, uh, I don't wanna get blood on it,” he mumbles quietly. He glances up to Tony to see that he’s holding his head in his hand.

“For the love of all that is holy, sit on the damn couch.” Peter sits without further hesitation. Dum-E swivels back towards Tony with a red first aid kit in its grasp, then proceeds to drop it on the floor. Dum-E…isn't really the sharpest tool in the shed. Tony snatches it up off the floor and marches to Peter. He sits on the couch before opening the first-aid, but Peter notices the man is slightly shaky.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks in a hushed voice.

“Do I _seem_ okay?” Tony demands. “I consider myself a pretty approachable guy. So what I don't understand is why you wouldn't tell me what happened! You act like you'd rather bleed out than ask anyone for help! I don't know about you, but I don't want to plan a sixteen year old kid’s funeral!” He angrily pulls out disinfectants and slams them down on the cushion. “And of course while you're bleeding _you're_ asking _me_ if _I'm_ okay.” He shakes his head in disbelief with a humorless laugh.

“I'm sorry…” _Sorry doesn't cut it_.

“Oh damn right you are. But not as sorry as you're gonna be, I can tell you that. You're gonna wish that your aunt were here to ground you.” Well that's encouraging. “Lift your shirt.” Peter does as he says, revealing the gash. It’s crusted with dried blood around the edges, but fresh blood is making its way to the surface. “Is that…toilet paper?” Tony looks between Peter and the wound.

“It's not like a bathroom has gauze lying around,” Peter quietly answers.

“I'm going to need therapy after this.” Tony takes a deep breath before starting to clean the surrounding skin. Luckily, Peter has a high pain tolerance so he doesn't react. Tony, however, has a stone cold stare of concentration that could scare anyone.

“You seem like you're in more pain than I am.” Peter tries to lift some of the tension by adding some humor into his voice. He doesn't know if it works, but Tony at least responds.

“Yeah, I heard that's a side effect of having a teenager,” he grumbles. For some reason, his wording makes Peter feel like Tony might actually…care. Of course, he knows better than that. Tony fully cleans the wound, then pulls out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

“That's going to sting,” Peter observes, his eyes glued to the bottle.

“Like a bitch,” Tony agrees. He puts a towel underneath the gash and slowly pours the hydrogen peroxide onto it. Small, white bubbles fizzle while cleaning it and it _burns like hell_. Peter tries to breathe through the pain, biting the inside of his cheek. “You alright?” Tony asks carefully. Peter rapidly nods.

“I've had worse,” he answers truthfully. Tony slowly shakes his head as he dabs the liquid away. “Don't worry, I don't think I can get infections.”

“We don't know that and I'm not taking any chances.” With that, Tony applies large butterfly bandages to close the wound before placing a adhesive pad over it and wrapping Peter’s torso in gauze.

“I could've done all that, Mr. Stark.” _I don't want him to just see me as an incapable kid._ “I've been doing stuff like this by myself for-”

“If you tell me one more time about you getting hurt, I'm going to build a multimillion dollar _bubble_ just to stick you in it.” He rubs his hands together, then holds his face.

“I'm sorry,” Peter repeats with his head lowered. His leg bounces anxiously to try to get rid of some of his nervous energy.

“Go change into a clean shirt. We'll skip training for today. You can go do whatever it is teenagers do until Happy can take you home. As long as you stay _inside_ the Tower. And from now on,” Peter doesn't need enhanced senses to feel Tony’s unwavering stare “you always call me if something happens. I don't care if it's Mysterio or a damn paper cut. You. Call. Me. That isn't a suggestion.” Peter immediately nods without argument. “I need a drink,” Tony whispers under his breath. Most people wouldn't have heard it, but for Peter it was as clear as day. _Mr. Stark wouldn't drink, like, alcohol, right? I mean, he's old enough but he wouldn't get drunk with me here?_ Peter wonders. Tony stands and Peter follows him to the elevator once again. On the way by, Peter grabs his backpack which contains the damaged suit that he fortunately hasn't had to show Tony yet. _I feel like my life is just going in circles sometimes._ Peter’s heart drops when they reach the penthouse and Tony walks straight to the bar.

“I'm, uh, I'm gonna go change, do some homework,” Peter mutters. He quickly heads up the stairs as Tony pours a glass who-knows-what. _Why is that bothering me so much? It's just alcohol…which is literally poison to the human body and slowly kills your liver. No biggie._ He closes the bedroom door behind him, sets his backpack down, and immediately pulls his shirt over his head. _Is Mr. Stark drinking because of me?_ The questions force their way into his head. _Did I upset him so much that he thought it would be better to drink than to deal with me? Am I really that overwhelming?_ He doesn't have the energy to push the thoughts back. He stands in silence, his head filled with doubts and concerns, until his phone buzzes in his back pocket. It's a simple text:

 

**_Guy in the Chair_ **

Ned: _are we patrolling??_

 

He considers Ned’s question. Tony would probably murder him if he found out he left to patrol, especially after what happened today. He even said to stay inside the Tower. Unless that’s just a liability issue since Tony is technically “overseeing Peter’s activities.” Peter can't help but scoff. _How’s he going to keep an eye on me while he’s drunk?_ _Does he even care? Maybe he's sick of me again. But Mr. Stark is a nice person, I know that. He’s just not great at showing it sometimes. He wouldn't have bandaged me up if he didn't care. But I'm just making everything harder for him. So much so that he’d rather turn to alcohol, apparently._ Peter takes a long, deep breath.

  
Peter: _yeah_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *tiny gasp* the drama of a rebellious teen
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	15. Rebel With a Cause

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Hope everyone's weeks were good :) I have an intense chapter for you all today, but hopefully a fun one too. No trigger warnings, just have fun with the drama and hopefully Tony can get his Spider Kid under control. Have fun and stay safe!
> 
> -Kevy

Nothing will ever replace or downplay the feeling of adrenaline Peter feels as he plummets towards the city. The rush of wind bends around his suit and rushes past his ears. His body feels weightless and free. He’ll never get over the feeling of being Spider-Man. As the ground approaches faster, he shoots a web to a nearby building and pulls himself forward.

“Good afternoon, Peter. Your suit’s integrity hasn't seemed to improve. I recommend repairing the torn material prior to patrol. I'm glad that your wound has been tended to. Did Tony Stark assist you?” Karen’s sweet voice asks.

“Hey Karen! How’s it going? What’s the news look like?” he ignores her question about Tony.

“I’m doing well. Thank you for asking. The news channels and radio stations are showing no interesting activity. However, your school is on TV about this afternoon’s incident.”

“Oh wow, really? That's kinda cool. What are they saying?” He continues swinging his way into the city, keeping his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.

“Principal Morita is currently speaking. Would you like to listen?” He swings upwards and flips onto the roof of a building.

“Yeah, sure.” A small window opens on his mask’s interface showing Mr. Morita from the shoulders up.

 _“No one was harmed_.” He can't help but scoff. _“We are currently unaware of who pulled the fire alarm, but we are looking into it and proper repercussions will be implemented. We believe whoever pulled the alarm used it as a distraction to break into the Chemistry Lab. We are still looking into what, if anything, was taken. Thank you.”_ With that, Mr. Morita disappears from the screen and Karen swipes it away for Peter. He supposes that means no one saw Mysterio, which is good?

“Thanks, Karen. Can you call Ned for me?”

“Of course.” Ned’s amazing contact picture pops up on his screen and his best friend answers immediately.

“Hey, Peter!” Ned greets enthusiastically.

“Hey, you ready?”

“Yeah! I'm all cued up at my desk. Your Guy in the Chair is at your service.” He uses an overly sophisticated voice that makes Peter laugh.

“Thanks, man. How about checking the police scanners? Karen said she couldn't find anything on the news or radios.” Peter jumps off the building and starts swinging again.

“As you wish,” Ned quotes. Peter chuckles, his mechanical lenses narrowing.

“Did you just quote _The Princess Bride?_ ” Ned gasps overdramatically and Peter can hear him typing in the background.

“ _Inconceivable!_ ” They both burst out laughing, so much so that it makes Peter’s side ache with the extra movement.

“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means,” Peter quotes Inigo Montoya with a, pretty terrible, Spanish accent. They keep laughing. “Jeez, we haven't watched that movie in ages. We need to have another movie night with May.”

“That’d be awesome.” There’s a beep in the background. “Sorry, Peter. There's nothing on the police scanners either. It looks pretty quiet,” Ned regrettably informs. Peter can't help but groan. The last time he disobeyed Tony, trouble wouldn't leave him alone. Now that he's actually _looking_ for trouble, there's nothing?!

“See. Just as I said,” Karen points out.

“Yeah but another pair of eyes never hurts. Plus you could’ve overlooked something,” Ned answers nonchalantly.

“I am a User Interface created by the genius billionaire Tony Stark. I don't overlook anything.” _Is Karen…jealous? Of Ned?_

“Oh yeah?” Ned challenges. “Well I'm the also super smart Ned Leeds: Spider-Man’s Guy in the Chair! I'm the one who hacked Iron Man’s Spider-Man suit so ha!” Peter can't keep the smile off his face as the two argue.

“That was you?” Karen inquires.

“Darn right it was me!”

“Oh. Very well. I will be sure to inform Tony Stark that Ned Leeds infiltrated his multimillion dollar suit.” Peter can hear the amusement in her mechanical voice.

“What?! Wait! You can't- don't- if he- he’s gonna kill me with his amazingly polished metal fists!” Ned squeaks frantically. Peter playfully rolls his eyes at his best friend’s sudden panic.

“She won't tell Mr. Stark. _Right,_ Karen?” he urges. There's a brief pause, but she responds with,

“Right, Peter.” Ned audibly sighs in relief.

“Hey, didn't you say you were going to train with Tony Stark in the Tower today or something? You were barely there for, like, twenty minutes.” Peter kinda of hoped Ned would be so excited about patrol that he’d forget about that part.

“Well, um, about that. Mr. Stark kinda found out about what happened at school and saw that I got hurt and he got pissed and I yelled because he treated me like a baby so he yelled back and now we kind of aren't speaking?” _More like he’s drinking his worries away instead of dealing with me._

“Dude you're fighting with Iron Man?! _Again?!_ Don't you remember the last time someone fought with Iron Man?! Captain America and half of the Avengers became fugitives and then you almost died! I'm not liking this pattern!” Ned rambles out his concerns, his voice squeaking near the end.

“I know, okay? I just, I couldn't stay cooped up inside that tower. He tried to make me stay in a guest room while he gets drunk,” Peter grumbles.

“When _Tony Stark_ tells you to do something, you do it!” Ned says as if it's a no-brainer.

“Since when?! I'm Spider-Man! I can take care of myself! Spider-Man doesn't need rules or stupid guidelines. I've got my Guy in the Chair and Karen! That’s all I need.”

“Stop using that against me! It won't always work,” Ned pouts.

“C’mon, Ned! I'm gonna be fine and you never know when the bad guys are gonna do their bad guy thing! I guarantee Mr. Stark isn't even gonna notice I'm gone before I got back. It’ll be a quick patrol.” Peter tries to reason with him.

“Fine,” Ned huffs. “But if I get on Iron Man’s shit list for this, I'll start taking New Best Friend applications.” Peter smiles triumphantly at his victory.

They spend the next half hour talking about the internet’s newest Star Wars theories while Peter takes care of some minuscule disturbances. There was an elderly man who needed help carrying his groceries to his car, so Peter easily carried them all for him. Then Peter had to chase a bunch of dogs who got away from a dog walker, which was slightly humiliating since it took him a bit longer than it should have. Besides that, Ned and Karen were right. Everything’s quiet.

“People _actually_ think that?” Peter exclaims with his mouth full of a classic New York hot dog.

“Yeah! They were saying that Snoke was somehow Mace Windu and I was so confused.” Ned relays. Static sounds in the background. “Police scanner is going off all of sudden.”

“What do we got?” Peter asks, eager to have something more meaningful to do. Not that chasing dogs isn't…important? There’s a brief pause while Ned listens to the scanner.

“Sounds like some dudes are taking a joyride down East Forty-First Street. Whoa! It’s, like, turning into a car chase!” Ned tries to hide the excitement in his voice, but fails miserably. As soon as he finishes, Peter starts to hear the sirens. Karen lights up a path on Peter’s screen and he quickly adjusts his swing to follow it.

“I have highlighted the optimal route. It should take you two minutes or less to catch up to the vehicle. However, I feel the need to warn you that a high speed car chase is incredibly dangerous,” Karen warns in a serious, unwavering tone. The kind of tone she uses when she’s about to suggest help from a certain ironclad billionaire.

“I’ll be careful, I promise. Better me than the police, right?” Peter reasons. She doesn't answer.

“They just turned south onto Second Avenue,” Ned informs him. Karen adjusts her path accordingly as Peter flies above the roof of a building. Thank goodness Karen knows which direction that is because, let’s be real, no one knows which direction south is just off the top of their head. That’s what phones are for! Or in Peter’s case, a highly intelligent user interface.

“Copy. Can you hack into the traffic lights?” When Peter gets onto East 41st Street, he starts swinging closer to the ground. The sirens aren't too far away now.

“Um, I think so? It’s pretty simple since they're wirelessly networked. Why? Wouldn't that count as a federal offense?” Before Peter can answer Ned’s questions, Karen beats him to it.

“Tampering with traffic lights would be considered a federal crime under the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act. One’s sentence would depend on the course of action taken and the motivation behind it, but will likely lead to at least a five thousand dollar fine and up to ten years in prison.” There’s a brief silence.

“Don't worry! It’s for the greater good! I'm sure they’ll understand. Besides, you’re only in trouble if you get caught!” Peter encourages as he lands on a car that turns onto 2nd Avenue.

“I don't think you should be quoting Aladdin right now! He isn't exactly the best role model!” Ned counters. Peter’s mask highlights the car crazily weaving between traffic just ahead of the blaring cop cars.

“Ned! Focus! I need you to turn all the lights green for these psychos. If anything’s red, they’re gonna run it anyways and I don't want them hurting anyone. Can you do that?” Ned quickly snaps out of it, always confident when it comes to his tech.

“I'm insulted that you underestimate my skills.” Peter shakes his head with a smile before swinging off the car. He swiftly moves past the cop cars, his mask automatically dampening the screaming sirens and flashing lights. As he speeds past them, he realizes that the intersection they're rapidly approaching has a red light. Uh oh.

“Ned I kinda needed that green light, like, _yesterday!”_

“I'm trying! I'm trying!” Ned defends. Peter shoots out another web and swings close to the ground so that he's at the same level as the rogue car’s window.

“Sup guys,” he greets nonchalantly. The guy in the passenger seat jumps and the whole car swerves in surprise. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re going forty in a twenty-five zone.” The passenger wastes no time in pulling out a gun. Peter lets go of his web to stick onto the back door as the man fires out the passenger window. When the firing pauses, Peter webs the gun and yanks it out of the man’s hands.

 _“Fuck!”_ the man exclaims, ducking back into the car and rolling up the window. Peter uses his left hand to stay adhered to the car as he uses his right hand to punch through the window.

“Hey man, I'm a family friendly superhero, so I'd appreciate you keeping it PG-13,” Peter says politely before pulling the man out through the window and slamming him onto the roof. The top dents slightly at the sudden weight and Peter webs him in place. “Hang out for a sec and I'll get back to you.” Peter attaches a web to the top of the car for support as he leans to the side to peer in at the driver.

“Got it!” Ned exclaims as the traffic light shifts to green. Not just the one in front of them, but all the following intersections light up green in their favor. Peter pumps his fist in the air yelling,

“Heck yeah! Thanks, man!” They race through the clear intersection, but the driver still swerves in attempt to get Peter off. Peter pokes his head inside to look at them. “You do realize that auto theft is against the law, right?” The driver, a woman, whips out _another_ gun. _Where do bad guys get all these guns?!_ She immediately starts firing and Peter pulls himself away from the window as the bullets whizz past his head. Peter hops onto the top of the car, hearing the muffled protests of the other thief. “Nope, it’s not your turn yet.” Peter crawls past him to the other side of the car as they speed through an intersection. _Thank god Ned changed the lights so we can't get t-boned._ The woman frantically whips her head between the passenger window and the road. All this work for a crappy Honda Prius? Peter webs the remaining gun and flings it out onto the side of the road. The remaining thief turns her head around to Peter and her face quickly contorts into a glare.

“You piece of-” Peter shoots a web over her mouth.

“Cake?” he finishes for her. “You're right. This _is_ a piece of cake!” A tingling sensation suddenly grabs the back of his neck. _Danger. Danger. Danger. Danger._ His head snaps up towards the street in front of them. Someone’s in the crosswalk.

“Ned, I thought all the lights were green!”

“They are!” Ned confirms frantically. _Don't have time. No time._ Peter pulls the driver out through the window as he webs her accomplice with his other hand, only sticking to the car with his feet. Ned’s trying to talk to Peter, but his Spidey Sense is screaming louder than any noise around him. _Faster. Faster. Faster._ He cocoons the soon-to-be-inmates together in webbing, then throws them towards a lamppost as they speed by. As soon as the criminals make contact, the cocoon cushioning the collision, Peter shoots a web to stick them to the pole. The pedestrian in the crosswalk has wide eyes and is frozen with fear. _There’s not enough time to stop the car. We’re too close. It’s gonna, it’s gonna-_

Peter flips off the top of the car without thinking and lands in front of the pedestrian. Then, he braces for impact. His senses only increase in their intensity as he puts his shoulder forward. The sudden, brutal impact jars his entire body. A shockwave seems to rattle him to the bone, but it’s nothing compared to the car. The hood of the car crumples and bends around him like a crushed can. The metal whines and he can feel the heat radiating from the engine as smoke rises from the damaged hood. Every muscle in his body screams as he does his best to keep the rogue car from advancing. _I gotta shield the pedestrian,_ is all he tells himself. His feet dig into the asphalt, causing it to crack and break apart. _Just a bit more. Stronger. You have to be stronger. C’mon, Peter._

The car screeches and he can smell burnt rubber as the tires melt against the asphalt at the sudden friction. Still, the car gives way. The back end of it tips up before smacking back to the ground.

He stopped it.

“Holy _shit,”_ he breathes. He removes himself from the dent he's created in the metal and takes a deep, steadying breath. He turns around to face the pedestrian, who’s now on the ground looking terrified. The guy, seemingly not too much older than Peter, has his gaze glued to Peter in a mixture of awe and terror. Peter can't blame him, the guy was almost flattened. “You might wanna look both ways before crossing the street. Y’know, left, right, and left again. Are you okay?” Peter rambles, trying to get the suddenly overwhelming amount of adrenaline out of his system.

“I, I think so? Dude, that was, that was _insane,_ man!” The guy is shaking slightly, but he doesn't have a scratch on him so that’s good.

“He has no bodily harm. However, I suggest treating for shock in case his mental state worsens,” Karen speaks up.

“Okay. Okay, um, call an ambulance if one’s not already on its way.” The pedestrian isn't the only one taking shaky breaths.

“Peter!” Ned screams into Peter’s ears, making him practically jump out of his skin.

“I'm okay! I'm okay! Just had to…stop a car. No sweat,” Peter reassures.

“You stopped a _car?!_ Like in the YouTube video?! Are you okay?!” Peter groans and throws his head back at Ned’s over exaggeration.

“I _just_ said I'm okay! I don't have a scratch on me. I promise everything’s f-”

“Incoming call from Tony Stark,” Karen’s suddenly daunting voice interrupts him. _Less fine._ Before Peter can even think of asking her to deny it, Tony appears on his interface. Tony looks like the farthest thing from pleased. He’s not standing still either. Instead, he seems to be rushed and disheveled, which definitely aren't typical descriptors of Tony Stark.

“Where are you?” Tony's voice is dangerously low and he isn't even looking at the camera as he paces. Peter’s instincts immediately scream at him to lie. _Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie._ But he knows how well that worked last time. “I asked you a question and you better answer before I get in my suit and track down yours!” Tony erupts, making Peter’s ears reverberate.

“I'm busy, alright?” Peter grumbles, deciding that ignoring Tony’s demand is better than lying.

“No, _not_ alright. I told you to not leave the Tower. I'm not going to ask again and if I have to come get you, you bet your ass I’m going to drag you back here and take joy in embarrassing you while I do it.” Peter can tell Tony is trying to hold back his anger, but Peter doesn't care. He doesn't care because Tony doesn't _get_ to be mad. _I'm the one who’s mad! I'm the one ignored! I'm the one who’s never taken seriously!_ Peter's hands ball into fists without a source to release his frustration. Still, the fact that Tony didn't instinctively track him is a plus. Peter scoffs and wonders, _when did basic personal boundaries become a luxury?_

“Fine. I'm coming back.” Peter immediately ends the call. He knows he's in a heap of trouble, but he can't bring himself to care. “I’ll call you later, Ned,” he mutters.

“Okay…sorry, Peter,” Ned apologizes regretfully.

“It’s not your fault. We’ll hang out soon.” After Peter hangs up, he huffs and starts making his way towards the dreaded Tower. His lackadaisical swings carelessly pull him closer and closer towards what feels like his impending doom. As soon as he lands on the penthouse balcony, Tony is practically stomping towards him.

“What _on Earth_ were you thinking? I remember strictly saying for you to stay put! Despite what people say, I don't talk to just hear myself speak. Instead you take _my_ suit while you're _injured_ and decide you’re gonna throw yourself in front of a car?! For a kid genius you’re pretty dense!” Tony shouts, still trying to reign in some of his anger. Peter doesn't react to his yelling. Instead, he takes his mask off as he walks past Tony. Tony's strong hand grips his shoulder and spins him around. “Walk away from me again while I'm talking to you and I _swear_ I’ll have your aunt on the phone before you can even say ‘I'm sorry, Mr. Stark.’” Peter laughs humorlessly and shrugs his hand off.

“Funny that you think I'm going to apologize for anything,” Peter snaps bitterly. Tony actually looks shocked for a second, but it quickly shifts back into anger.

“You wanna be a smartass? Fine. You can do that on your own time, but not in my Tower. I don't need your teenage attitude! Go change out of the suit.” He crosses his arms with his jaw set firmly.

“Oh so now your just going to blame my age?! Peter’s upset, it must be those _teenage hormones_. Peter’s angry? Must be that _teenage attitude_ of his! Peter can't take on the villains, he’s just a _teenager!”_ By the time Peter finishes, he's screaming out of pure anger. “I can't be upset or, or mad because it’s just because of my _age!_ Blame how _young_ I am! It’s definitely not because I can't sleep at night without waking up screaming! Or how I can't go into a basement without feeling like the room’s gonna collapse! Or how every time I close my eyes I see Toomes smiling or May disappointed in me or you upset with me! I'm sick of it! I can't! I just can't!” His breathing starts to sound more like harsh gasps and he knows that he's edging towards panic, but he couldn't care less. If he doesn't get these emotions out now, he's not sure he’ll ever have the courage to again. Tony is frozen. Frozen in a way where Peter can tell he doesn't know whether to respond with more anger or just leave.

“Maybe you weren't ready for this.” Tony says through clenched teeth, glancing down to Peter's torn suit.

“No! You can't just take away the suit every time you don't know what to do or how to deal with me! Maybe if you actually tried to work things out and used your emotions, you wouldn't have to do that! The only reason you take it away is because you can't handle conflict! You can't just _do_ that! You can't buy me the way you buy everything else! I'm a human being! Stop treating me like some charity case whenever it benefits you! You can't just come into my life whenever you feel like it! Do you know how much it hurts every time you just leave out of nowhere?! How I can't sleep because I don't know if you left because you don't want to deal with me anymore or don't think I'm important enough or just don't care?! You don't know how much that _hurts,_ Mr. Stark!” Peter grips the fabric on his chest and tugs at it, tempted to rip it just to feel like he can get more air. The suit is suddenly constricting and the mere feeling of the fabric against his skin is almost too much to handle. The fact that Tony takes a deep breath only makes Peter envious that he can do it.

“Alright. I get where you’re coming from, I really do. What you need to understand is that you have limits like the rest of us. I'm not just saying that because you're a kid, which you are, but that’s not my point. I don't go rushing into battle with a damaged suit. None of us do what we do with damaged equipment. Okay? Especially not with injuries, if we can avoid it.” Tony does his best to reason with Peter, noticing his panic. Part of Peter doesn't want to listen to what Tony has to say, but he knows how hard it is for Tony to not explode too. Tony wouldn't ever admit it, but he was scared. Scared that he saw a kid jump out in front of a car without hesitation. He’s pissed, and he’s not going to let Peter live this down, but he’s trying his best.

“You say you get it, but do you? ‘Cause, I just, I just can't keep doing this. I don't want to feel disposable.” The unspoken words that bounce in Peter’s head are that he doesn't want Tony to leave again. No matter how stupid it makes Tony feel, he’s a role model to Peter. And Peter has already lost so many of those. Tony's anger starts to dissipate, but it leaves behind a crushing ache in his chest.

“I promise I understand, but you have to realize that what you did isn't okay.” His voice is tight and stern. He can tell that Peter is starting to deflate, but god he hopes the tears don't come with it. He’s trying to be reprimanding, but he can't stand it when the kid cries. He just doesn't know what to do when that happens. Peter clenches his teeth. He knows he shouldn't have gone out, but he was just so mad.

“Maybe you shouldn't have been drinking then.” He hates the way his voice wavers and he has to force the tears to stay back. The worst thing is when he cries when he's frustrated. He doesn't start crying because he's sad, he involuntarily cries because he's enraged. People always get the wrong idea. Tony pulls his eyebrows together and blinks in confusion.

“Kid, I haven't had a drop of alcohol in months. Unfortunately,” he mutters the latter. Peter tilts his head and narrows his eyes.

“But, but I saw you pour something at the bar.” Tony sighs and rubs a hand over his face.

“It was apple juice. Rhodey and Pep made me get rid of all the alcohol in the penthouse. So to make myself feel better, I still use the bar for mundane, less comforting beverages,” he grumbles. For some reason, a huge weight is lifted off Peter's shoulders and relief courses through him.

“You weren't trying to get drunk?” Peter asks sheepishly, all anger and spite gone. Somehow, his suit and the space around him feels more bearable.

“Nope,” Tony admits, popping the “p.” He shoves his hands in his pockets nonchalantly, but Peter can't meet his eyes due to his own internal conflict. Peter wants to be mad. He wants to be _so_ mad that he screams and yells at Tony for everything he has had to go through for the last six months. But he can't bring himself to do it anymore. His tense, defensive posture relaxes and his shoulders slump forward.

“I just thought that, that…” _Stop sounding like a baby._

“I'm not exactly the greatest role model, but I wouldn't drink myself into oblivion with you here, kid. I don't wanna screw you up more than I already have.” Tony’s voice gets closer the longer he speaks and by the time he stops, he puts a firm hand on Peter’s shoulder. It takes every ounce of Peter’s self-control not to grip onto Tony’s arm to ground himself. Before he can argue with what Tony said, the man continues. “What exactly happened out there anyways? I know your track record shows you like getting hit by cars, but really? You okay? Then again, you'd say you were fine even if you were skewered.” Peter notices that Tony quickly glances him over.

“Yeah, I'm okay,” Peter mumbles, lowering his head. “I’ve stopped a bus, remember? A Prius is nothing.” He shrugs as if it’s not a problem.

“The bus wasn't speeding and definitely wasn't left looking like a crumpled soda can. There had to be more efficient ways to stop it. Ever heard of breaks?”

“I would’ve if I could've. There wasn't enough time to stop the car _and_ save the guy.” Tony’s grip tightens on his shoulder.

“What?” Tony asks, borderline baffled. Peter looks up at him, only to see how confused he is.

“The guy. He didn't look before he crossed, so I had to stop the car. I mean, who doesn't look both ways when they cross the street?” Peter attempts to chuckle to break some of the tension, but his voice cracks. His nerves are kicking in. _I can't believe I screamed at Mr. Stark, he has to be so angry at me._ He clasps his hands together to keep them from shaking.

“Hey, what’ve I said about overthinking?” Tony raises both his eyebrows expectantly.

“To…not?” He pats Peter’s shoulder.

“Good. Now go get changed and we’ll work on repairing this mess of a suit down in the workshop.” Peter’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“Really?!”

“Really. Just don't go jumping out of my window again.” Tony gives him a pointed look and all Peter can do is nod. Peter goes to leave with his hands gripping his elbows, but Tony doesn't loosen his grip on his shoulder. “I just want you to know that…” Tony stops for a moment, intently staring at Peter. “Even though I have a shitty way of showing it sometimes…okay most of the time, I care and all that jazz.” He breaks eye contact to vaguely gesture to the air. He's trying not to make it all mushy, but he's also trying to be sincere. Tony's words make their way back into Peter’s mind: _and if you died, I feel like that's on me_. Peter smiles to himself.

“I know, Mr. Stark.” _He cares._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, we get a bit of a fluff break now! Before we get back to crippling and unforgiving angst ;)
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	16. Mr. Colonel Sir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAHHH the Far From Home trailer came out and wow I'm freaking emotional, hope you're all doing okay... This is one of my favorite chapters of the story! Probably my third or fourth favorite :) ALSO thank you all so much for all the support, I'm always blown away by the kudos and comments, I appreciate every single one of you and I hope I do this story justice <3
> 
> Also also, I may have an idea for a post-Endgame one shot,,,so if that were to maaaaaybe happen, would you want a fix-it fic or Peter coping post-Endgame? Let me know!
> 
> No trigger warnings! Just enjoy the momentary fluff while it lasts! Have fun and stay safe!

“Hey, May! I'm home!” Peter calls into the apartment as he shuts the door behind him. It's been a long day, but it isn't over yet. He has to update May on everything that happened over the weekend _and_ at school that morning. He'd be surprised if she weren't an emotional wreck.

Tony and Peter spent a few hours in the workshop upgrading Droney and repairing the suit. It's still dirty and needs to be washed, but besides that it's practically as good as new. The situation was a bit tense at first with Peter being emotionally drained and Tony trying to not be awkward, but it became more natural once they started working. They kept each other company, talked about different hallucinogenic neurotoxins, and had some laughs. It was a nice change of pace. Now Peter just have to survive May, which is a lot easier said than done.

“I'm in the kitchen!” May calls. _Well that's never a good sign,_ Peter thinks. He throws his backpack onto the sofa and pulls his headphones out before walking into the kitchen.

“The smoke alarms aren't going off, so that's a plus.” He leans his elbows on the light blue countertop next to the oven as May pulls out a plastic tray from the microwave. “Oh that makes sense. Microwaveable meals don't _cook,_ let alone catch on fire.” May turns around and raises a challenging eyebrow at him.

“You better watch it, mister. I wouldn't go insulting your only source of income,” she teases while handing him the meal.

“Thanks, May.” Peter smiles gratefully. May fixes her nephew’s messy hair.

“How was training with Stark?” she asks, obviously still amused that he hangs out with Tony. They walk over to the couch and Peter plops down. He can tell she's trying to get some answers about Mysterio without being outright interrogating.

“Well we kinda got…distracted.” Peter peels the plastic off the top of his dinner and pokes the mushy green beans.

“Distracted how?” May inquires curiously.

“Y’know how there was that fire alarm issue at the school this morning?” Peter keeps his eyes on his soggy food, but he sees his aunt nod out of the corner of his eye. “It actually had to do with why Mr. Stark and I were fighting near the Tower this weekend.” Better just get it out of the way as honestly as possible, considering he hasn't been all that honest lately.

“So, they're connected? How?” He notices May freeze and a dreadful tone creeps into her voice. “Does someone know that you're-”

“No!” Peter quickly reassures her, now facing her. “No, no one else knows who I am. It's a pure coincidence that he attacked Midtown.” May only looks more confused.

_“He?”_

“Well, we think they're a ‘he’ based on the voice but who knows what he could do to change his voice. Plus it's kinda hard to tell with the, uh,” Peter raises his hands over his head to accentuate his words “big fishbowl head.” May blinks at him a few times and he just stays with his arms raised.

“Okay, you lost me.” Peter sighs and floofs his hair with both of his hands.

“So there's this new villain dude who wears a glass helmet. Don't ask me why, it makes no sense and I'm not his fashion designer. If I were, he’d look way cooler. He goes by ‘Mysterio’ and seems to have this performer schtick going on. It’d be really hilarious if it weren't for the hallucinogenic gas he uses and he's, like, wicked fast and-”

“Wait wait wait,” May interrupts. “slow down.” Peter slowly nods and takes a few breaths. “Hallucinogens? Like LSD?”

“Kinda? I was thinking more like PCP. Either way, it wasn't fun.” It's nice to have another person who’s knowledgeable about drugs and medication.

 _“Excuse me?_ Don't tell me he used it on you!” There’s the overprotective aunt he knows.

“I mean, he’s a villain so that's kind of the point. But I'm okay now! My body burned through the drug really quickly and then my suit was able to filter the rest. I promise I'm good.” He holds up his hands in surrender as May stares him down with her arms crossed.

“You're lucky your metabolism is so fast. Do you have any idea what PCP does to normal people?” Her harsh eyes morph into those of concern.

“For the most part I think-”

“It causes insane mood swings. _Violent_ mood swings that can devolve into paranoia. And not just that, but visual _and_ auditory hallucinations. Peter,” she holds both of his hands in hers, “if you breathed in too much of that gas, you could have overdosed.” The air seems to still.

“I know, but I was really careful and Mr. Stark was there to help me. It was just…unplanned. I did much better fighting him today.” Peter squeezes her hands, trying to comfort her. She takes a deep breath.

“So that's who broke into the chemistry lab, hm? Looking for chemicals to add to his collection?” _She catches on quick. I love her so much,_ Peter absentmindedly notes with a smile.

“Hey, look at you putting all the puzzle pieces together! You're practically a detective.” May playfully rolls her eyes and Peter laughs.

“You're okay though, right? You kicked his butt outta town?” Gosh, Peter wishes it were that easy. Maybe it isn't such a great idea to tell her about the injury…

“Not exactly, but I did stop him from taking whatever it was that he wanted. I think.” May pulls him into a hug and tucks his head underneath her chin.

“I'm still proud of you, big man. This is more than anyone at your age should be handling.” Warmth spreads throughout Peter's chest at her words. He smiles into her sweater and hugs her back. No one will ever manage to make him feel as safe and peaceful as May, and he can't help but relish in the moment.

“Thanks, May. Love you.”

“Love you too, monster.” May rubs his back before pulling away. “So, now that I'm all caught up with this week’s drama, how about we break out some cards.” Peter immediately sits up straighter, a smile spreading across his face.

“Go Fish? Wait, no. We played that last time. How about War? Actually, can we do Poker?! Or Blackjack?!” May chuckles at his sudden burst of energy. He can't help it! Card games are the best!

“You only want to play Poker and Blackjack because you always cheat.” Peter places a hand over his heart at her accusation.

“I do no such thing! You're just upset cause I always win.” He smirks proudly.

“I'm upset because my kid’s a Brainiac who counts cards.” Peter shrugs his shoulders at her accurate words.

“It's just probability and mental math.” May gives him a look before standing and walking over to the bookcase.

“Brainiac,” she repeats as if her point was proven. She grabs a deck of cards off the shelf and tosses them to him. Peter catches them in his right hand without so much as blinking. Ever since May found out about Peter's superhuman reflexes, she practically hurls things at him any chance she gets.

“I'll never get over that,” she hums proudly. Peter shakes his head while taking out the cards to shuffle the deck. “Have you played Poker with Stark yet?” He glances up at her with confused, narrowed eyes.

“What? No! He doesn't have time for stuff like that. Besides, we're strictly professional. No having fun. We have to pretend I'm interning, remember?” he rambles, shuffling the cards a bit faster due to his nerves. Things just got back to somewhat normal with Tony, so he doesn't want to make it weird.

“Right, because an intern spends the weekend at Stark Industries’ Tower.” May leans her elbow on the top of the couch and rests her chin in her hand. Peter starts to bridge the cards, his eyes glued to them.

“I mean…yeah?” His hands slip and the cards go flying all over the couch and floor. He freezes and slowly looks up to meet May's equally shocked eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbles before starting to pick the cards up. May helps him with an amused smile on her face.

“Real convincing,” she teases.

“It’s not that deep though.” She hands him the rest of the cards. “Yeah, he’s like my mentor, but it’s just ‘cause he feels responsible for me since I'm Spider-Man. I know he…cares, somewhat, but he’s Iron Man. It’s, like, his job,” Peter tries to explain. “I don't mean that much to him.” He looks down at his lap, oddly emotional.

“Oh sweetheart,” May rubs her thumb over his cheek affectionately, “you have no idea.” Peter smiles slightly, knowing that she’s right. They spend the rest of the evening playing poker with goldfish crackers as betting chips. Peter ends up with the majority of the goldfish by the time May tells him it’s time to go to bed, which he begrudgingly does. Normally he'd make more of a fuss, but it has admittedly been a long, stressful day.

When Peter wakes up, he’s practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. He actually gets to train with Tony today! If someone would've told him he would be training with Iron Man himself, he would have either laughed or passed out. Now Tony is just…Tony. Which isn't any less cool. After a big breakfast to make up for a lack of lunch yesterday and a goodbye hug from May, Peter starts his trek to school. He sticks his earbuds in and lets habit take over. It's nothing exciting, just a short walk to the subway then a twenty minute ride to Midtown.

The school day passes by pretty typically for him. Morning classes are as boring as always, but he wills himself to get through them. _Mr. Stark is counting on me._ Ned, MJ, and Peter have lunch together in the cafeteria, which is interrupted by a particularly grumpy Flash. He always gets more aggressive when they get closer to decathlon season. Practices are starting up again soon, so Flash tries to intimidate the other incoming members. MJ is quick to put him in his place though, since she's the new team captain. _Only a few more hours. Mr. Stark is counting on me,_ Peter repeats the mantra over and over in his head throughout the rest of the day. It's something to look forward to. When the final bell rings, Peter meets Ned at their lockers.

“Hey,” Peter greets as he stuffs his books into the locker.

“Hey, man. MJ and I wanted to know if you wanted to have a movie night.” Peter turns to look at Ned, slightly skeptical.

“MJ wants to hangout? With _us?”_ he clarifies. Ned simply shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “It's cool with me. May brought up something like that the other day, so she'll probably want to do it at the apartment.” May always goes all out on the snacks.

“Awesome! Is tonight okay?” Ned asks, and Peter nods in agreement.

“Yeah, I think so. I'll text her.” Peter pulls out his phone and starts typing across the cracked screen. _I really need a new phone._ “But tonight should be fine.”

“Good. If you said no, I would've had to disown you,” a monotone voice cuts in. Peter whips around to face MJ’s impassive stare.

“Don't you have detention to sit in on?” Peter narrows his eyes in confusion. MJ usually hangs out in detention at the end of every school day.

“They'll survive one day without me. There's plenty of anguish to go around.” Peter looks between her and Ned. “Unless you have something…better to do?” MJ challenges. Peter’s eyes widen slightly, but he tries to keep himself calm.

“Well, I, um, y’know,” he thrusts his thumb towards the front doors “Stark Internship.” _Eloquently put, Peter._

“Mhm,” MJ hums.

“But tonight's good! I can make it afterwards!” Peter quickly adds. She holds her cold, analytical stare.

“See you losers tonight, then.” With that, she gives Peter an unreadable expression before walking away.

“What just happened?” Peter asks, blinking at Ned.

“I stopped trying to understand her along time ago, man.” Ned shrugs. Peter chuckles and shakes his head, then checks the time on his phone.

“Hey, I gotta go. I don't want to make Happy wait. I'll text you later about patrol.” Peter keeps his voice hushed about the latter.

“Sounds good!” Ned waves to him with a smile as Peter jogs through the front doors. When Peter sees the Bentley, he quickly hops into the passenger seat.

“Hey, Happy!” Peter steals a glance towards the back seat. “He's not…back there, right?” Happy chuckles lightly, starting the engine.

“Tony’s back at the Tower with Rhodey.” Peter’s eyes widen and he doesn't even try to hide his excitement.

“No way, _the_ Colonel Rhodes is at the Tower?! Like, right now?! And I'm gonna _meet_ him?!” Peter all but squeals and Happy looks at him like he’s insane.

“Hey, hey! Inside voice,” Happy reminds him.

“Sorry, but he's a _hero!_ He's fought one hundred and thirty-eight combat missions! Even without his suit!” Peter vibrates as he rambles, both his legs bouncing.

“Yeah, well he just got back from a business trip so go easy on him,” Happy informs vaguely. He should know by now that Peter is the human embodiment of 20 Questions.

“Business trip? For the military or…?” Happy doesn't answer, but his lack of a response is enough of an answer. “So, Avengers business then?” Silence. “It has to do with Secretary Ross and the Accords, doesn't it…” Peter mumbles dreadfully. Happy glances to Peter for a brief moment, then looks back to the road.

“They're handling everything. Don't worry about it.” Vague again. Peter decides to not push it, since it’s obviously still a sore subject for everyone. A few minutes later they get to the Tower and Happy drops Peter off. Peter taps on his thighs nervously as the elevator takes him up to the penthouse. When the doors open, he sees Tony standing behind the counter of the bar. Tony turns his attention to Peter and smiles.

“Hey, kid. How was school?” Peter returns his smile and walk over. He sits on the barstool in front of Tony, dropping his school backpack on the floor.

“Give me a glass of the strong stuff.” Peter sighs overdramatically. Tony snorts, but starts pouring him a small glass of apple juice.

“Rough day, huh?” He slides the glass across the counter to the kid, which Peter easily grasps. Then Tony turns around to grab a straw and plops it in the drink. Peter shrugs his shoulders, taking a sip.

“Y’know, high school is high school. People are jerks sometimes.” Tony raises a curious eyebrow.

“And who, pray tell, is being a jerk?” he questions, crossing his arms. Peter is caught slightly off guard. _Oh, I didn't think he’d ask about it._ He's debating mentioning Flash when the elevator dings.

“Alright, Tones, I talked to-” Rhodey slows his stride and looks between Tony and the teenager, then his eyes lock onto the glass in Peter’s hand. His eyes widen before he looks back up at Tony in shock. “What the hell, Tony?!” Suddenly Rhodey is next to Peter, snatching the drink from his hand.

“Hey!” Peter protests, but he doubts it’s heard by either of the men.

“I thought I told you to get rid of all the alcohol! And now I find you giving it to a _kid?!_ You can't just do that!” Tony patiently waits for Rhodey to stop yelling, his arms still crossed and his eyebrows raised.

“Really? You think I’d give alcohol to a minor when I'm not even letting _myself_ drink?” he challenges. Rhodey stares at him, his eyes conveying no emotion.

“It's…not alcoholic,” Rhodey says carefully.

“It's apple juice, man,” Peter mumbles and delicately takes the glass from Rhodey’s hand. Luckily, he lets Peter have it.

“And you say I’m bad with first impressions,” Tony feigns hurt and walks out from behind the bar.

“My bad, Peter,” Rhodey apologizes as he holds out his hand. Peter looks up at him with shock very evident on his face.

“Oh my god, you know my name.” Peter slowly takes his extended hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Colonel Rhodes sir.” Tony almost chokes trying to hold back an obvious laugh. Peter looks over at him with a furrowed brow.

“Feel free to call me Rhodey,” the colonel chuckles, releasing Peter’s hand. “Although being called ‘sir’ by a certain someone would be nice.” Rhodey gives Tony a smirk.

“Don't count on it,” Tony scoffs.

“I thought you were having a night out with Pepper tonight?” Rhodey asks curiously. Tony clears his throat before explaining,

“We…postponed it. Besides, I have time to spend with the kid.” Peter lowers his head to hide his sudden embarrassment. Rhodey turns his attention back to Peter with a knowing smile.

“Tony’s told me a lot about you,” he says.

“About, about me?” Peter questions incredulously. “Like what?” _Please don't tell me Mr. Stark told another person about my secret identity without my permission._

“Like how you’re his top intern. You should be proud, he’s a picky person. You must be nothing short of a genius,” Rhodey compliments. Peter goes into a state of absolute awe and shock. _Colonel Rhodes is complimenting me right after meeting me. Meeting me as Peter, not as Spider-Man. I think I'm going to faint._ Still, he hopes this means that Rhodey doesn't know he's Spider-Man. That'd make him faint in a bad way.

“Um, well, I guess? I'm not, I'm not really that, y’know, smart.” Peter presses his lips together and awkwardly nods a few times.

“Not that I don't love watching you squirm under pressure, which I do, but we have work to do in the workshop. I don't want to piss off your aunt by getting you home late,” Tony says as he clasps his hand on Peter’s shoulder. _It seems like that’s becoming a habit. I wonder why,_ Peter thinks absentmindedly.

“Well, it was good to finally meet you, Peter.” Rhodey offers Peter a warm, heartfelt smile. “Keep an eye on him, will you?” Peter nods enthusiastically.

“I'll keep him in line, Colonel Rhodes,” Peter teases, knowing it’ll get a reaction out of Tony.

“Really?” Tony challenges. “No one else ever has.” Peter playfully rolls his eyes before Tony removes his hand. They both walk to the elevator and turn to face Rhodey again. Peter can tell Rhodey wants to say something to Tony, but Rhodey holds it back. Once the doors close, Peter looks up at Tony.

“Thanks…for not telling him.” Peter awkwardly rubs his hands together. Tony raises a single eyebrow, urging him to elaborate. “About Spider-Man. I know…I know how hard it is to keep a secret from a best friend. It's not fun. So…thanks.” Peter’s mumbling is almost inaudible, but Tony nods.

“No problem, Spiderling.” Tony ruffles Peter’s hair to lighten the mood and Peter bats his hands away with a smile. The doors open and Peter jumps out into the workshop, pulling out his suit as he does so.

“The suit is holding up good! It needs to be recalibrated though ‘cause the response time is a bit slow, but I think that has to do with the the capacitors being damaged. Gotta be something about the flow of electricity being stunted.” He turns the suit inside out and sprawls it out on a nearby table.

“Could be,” Tony hums, looking over Peter’s shoulder. Peter grabs a pair of tweezers and pliers to inspect the wiring. “Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y., bring up the suit’s schematics and locate all the damaged circuits,” Tony orders to help out.

“Yes, Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice answers. A light blue glow encompasses the workshop as a hologram comes to life above Peter, but he keeps his attention on the suit. He switches from the pliers to the tweezers.

“There’s a micro tear in-”

“I got it,” Peter interrupts Tony before he can say anything and realigns the capacitor. Tony finds it amusing when Peter gets focused. He’s a smart kid and it’s an interesting contrast to see as opposed to his usual chatterbox self. “I’ll need to weld the wires, they got cut from the fight.” Peter doesn't take his eyes off his work.

“Speaking of which, how’s your…” Tony inquires awkwardly as he gestures to his own ribs. He glances down to where Peter’s gash was the other day and wrings his hands together.

“Oh! I forgot about it.” Peter sets down the tweezers and lifts the bottom of his shirt slightly to look. There’s a light pink line of scar tissue, but it should disappear over time. He looks up to Tony with a confident smile. “All healed up.” Tony gives an approving nod and Peter turns back to his suit, picking up the welder and a mask.

“Got your metabolism results back this morning too,” Tony informs over the noise of the welder. Peter finishes mending the wires and slips off the welding mask. Good as new! Or, it should be. He supposes he’ll find out during training.

“Oh yeah? Do I beat Captain America at something?” he asks curiously. _If I have a faster metabolism than Captain America, Ned’s going to freak._

“Sorry, kid. Apparently anti-Nazi science juice beats…whatever happened to you,” Tony vaguely gestures to Peter.

“Radioactive spider,” Peter provides simply. “But, was it close? I mean, sure he's bigger than me but I bet I could beat him in a hotdog eating contest.” There’s _no one_ who can eat more New York chili dogs than Peter.

 _“Excuse me?_ No, you don't get to gloss over that. _Radioactive_ _spider?_ How in the hell?!” Tony looks at him expectantly with wide eyes. Peter shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Field trip.” Tony scoffs, but nods.

“Of course, what was I thinking? I should've known,” he responds sarcastically. “Amazing educational system we have.”

“So what’d the results say?” Peter gets the conversation back on track.

“Well,” Tony starts as he brings up a pages of information as holograms, “we now have an exact amount of calories you need to eat in order to not die, which is always helpful. We also have the rate at which your itty bitty spider body heals. Plus, Helen can use the information to create an anesthetic as well as your own painkillers that your metabolism won't immediately burn through or cause you to OD.” Peter tries not to react, but he visibly winces enough for Tony to notice. Tony raises an eyebrow. “What's up?”

“Anesthesia and I don't exactly…agree?” It comes out as more of a question than an answer. Tony then turns his full attention to Peter.

“How so?” Peter crosses his arms tightly over my chest, acting as subconscious barrier between him and the rest of the world.

“They dull my senses. Y’know how when we first met, I told you my senses can get dialed to eleven sometimes?” Tony nods. “Well anesthesia dials them down to, like, one. Everything gets too…quiet. Like unnervingly quiet. Sounds are muffled and everything’s slightly blurry. It's like my muscles turn into to jelly, too. It’s not exactly something I'd call fun. Besides, why use anesthetic when I have such a high pain tolerance and healing factor? Just seems counterintuitive.” Tony nods thoughtfully.

“So, a one is just as bad as an eleven?” he inquires.

“Basically. It makes me feel…cut off. Numb. Apathy sets in. Let’s just try to not use it if we don't have to.” Peter attempts to keep his tone light in order to not seem like a downer.

“That works for me. It's comforting, even. If you don't like anesthesia, then I doubt you'll ever get into anything hardcore like, I dunno, heroin or something.” Peter doesn't even try to hold back his laugh. _Me? Doing drugs? May would wring my neck._

“I don't think you'll ever need to worry about that, Mr. Stark. Just imagine how much I'd actually need with my metabolism.” There's a pause. Something dawns on Peter and he looks up to meet Tony’s eyes. “How much _would_ I need?”

“Nope! Not testing that.” Tony instantly shuts down Peter’s idea.

“Aw, you're no fun.” Peter crosses his arms and pouts.

“Mhm, I'm the worst. Take those puppy dog eyes and get ready for training.” Tony waves him off with a slight smile and Peter grabs the suit. Once Peter is changed, he comes back out to see the couch moved out of the way and the floor cleared to allow them more room. With everything out of the way, there's actually a good amount of space. _Should I stretch? Is there a way to warm up my Spidey Sense?_ “Whatcha thinking about?” Tony breaks his train of thought and Peter looks up at him; he's standing behind an interface lit up by bright blue controls, waiting. Peter, however, is standing in the middle of the cleared floor. His mechanical eyes widen slightly.

“Oh, just about how color could be relative. We have names for all the colors, but they could look different to each person. We’re taught that this,” he points to his suit “is the color red. But my red could look like your green. But since we’re both _taught_ that it's red, we’d never know. Then what if color-”

“Not what I meant, kid,” Tony interrupts. “Let’s just get started.” He presses a button and a small image of a person pops up in front of him. He drags both of his hands across the 2D image, making it three dimensional. Then he slides it away from him and it enlarges midair before landing in front of Peter. It looks like a robot Tony would build. It's slightly taller than Peter, so it looks down at him with lifeless eyes. _This is slightly…disconcerting._ A virtual blade materializes in place of its left arm. _Oh. More disconcerting._

“You sure this is gonna work, Mr. Stark? What if my Spidey Sense detects it as a real threat?” Peter skeptically eyes the holographic dummy.

“Don't overthink it and you’ll be fine.” _Well that's reassuring._ Peter takes a deep breath and nods. “And this,” Tony gestures to his right as an identical robot rolls out from behind the table “is Buddie. Your _real_ opponent. There will only be one of him, making the rest of the holograms harmless.” More holograms of the same robot pop into existence around Peter. _This should be an adventure._ He shakes out his arms while bouncing on the balls of his feet and rolling his neck. _You got this, Spider-Man. You got this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading!! On Saturday we get a glimpse of the training process that Peter goes thru for fighting Mysterio and man I'm so excited to share it with you all
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	17. Best Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all you wonderful people! Here comes a chapter wrapped in fluff! Everyone needs a break from angst every once in a while, but don't worry there will be plenty of that in the future too ;)
> 
> QUICK IMPORTANT NOTE: @nathvods on Instagram made fanart for this chapter!!! ITS SO GORGEOUS YOU MUST GO LOOK AT IT PLEASE. Plus it's a mini Easter egg hunt!!  
> https://www.instagram.com/nathvods/p/ByvIdBrF_q6/?igshid=scuum1tez0rb
> 
> No trigger warnings unless you're allergic to fluff! Have fun reading and stay safe <3

_I don't got this._ Tingling. Swipe. Dodge. _I don't got this._ Tingling. Swipe. Dodge. _I don't got this!_ Peter has lost track of the real robot, Buddie, so he’s just trying to dodge any of the robots that come at him. Anytime he feels his Spidey Sense go off, he jumps out of the immediate area to avoid wherever Buddie is trying to attack from. One out of the many bots darts toward Peter, its blade extended towards him. He instinctively shoots a web at it, already planning to redirect its attack, but the web goes straight through it. _Hologram. Dammit._

“Focus on your senses,” Tony repeats for what feels like the millionth time. To his credit, he’s staying surprisingly patient. He’s right though, Peter knows he needs to pay more attention to his Spidey Sense than what he can see. _Focus, Peter._ The robots are whirring and speeding around him, some go through him too. He has to resist the urge to web any of them that try to attack him, but he feels like he's at a huge disadvantage. And he's not just thinking that because the odds are overwhelmingly against him. His peripheral vision catches one of the bots lunge at him with its blade and his instinct forces him to react with Rapid Fire Webs. None of which actually do anything. ‘Cause guess what? That's right! It's a hologram.

“Peter-”

“I know, I know. Focus,” Peter grumbles, but widens his stance. He scans the floor of bots and narrows his eyes. “Karen, can you detect-”

“Ah ah ah,” Tony interjects, “we’re training your senses, not Karen. No cheating.” Peter gapes at him, even though Tony can't tell.

“But Mr. Stark-”

“Nope! No buts. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.” Peter groans, but doesn't try to use Karen again.

“I'm sorry, Peter,” Karen regrettably apologizes.

“Yeah, me too.” There will be time for pouting later, even if he really wants to do it right now. He just has to relax until his Spidey Sense kicks in, right? _Easy as 3.14159!_ He relaxes his defensive posture slightly. A bot lunges towards him, but he waits. Not a single sense yells at him to do anything and the robot goes straight through him. Another bot does the same thing and he doesn't feel a tingling sensation or sense of impending doom. _Hey, I think I'm getting the hang of this! Ha! Take that! Mysterio’s gonna be taken down in no time!_ The third bot to attack yields the same result. A fourth that rushes Peter with a sharpened blade. _It has another thing coming if it thinks I'm gonna fall for-_ His Spidey Sense suddenly takes over the feeling in his arms. _Uh oh_. He yelps in surprise and tries to get out of the way, but his Spidey Sense didn't alert him quick enough. _Since when are my senses late?!_ Buddie tackles him to the floor, effectively bruising every ounce of his pride. Once Peter hits the floor, all the holograms freeze before disappearing.

“Not too shabby for a first try.” Tony walks up to Peter as Buddie gets off of him. He offers Peter his hand, which he begrudgingly takes, and hoists the teen to his feet.

“I got my ass kicked.” Tony gives him a look that practically screams “watch your language.”

“If you already knew how to do it, then we wouldn't be training in the first place. We didn't expect you to get it the first time around. That's why you're coming here after school everyday, right?” Peter nods, biting the inside of his cheek. “Don't be so hard on yourself, kid. We all had to train at some point. So, wanna go over it?”

“Yeah, that would help,” Peter relents.

“You're overconfidence caused a delayed reaction in your senses. Trust me, I know what egotism looks like. You have to trust that your sixth sense won't get you killed, but you aren't invincible either,” Tony says simply. Peter slips the mask off his head and takes a few breaths of clean air.

“I'm not egotistical!” he quickly defends. “I just got a bit too…comfortable fighting. It's hard to control a sense that you've barely had for a year.”

“Hey, it’s a work in progress. You'll get the hang of it, kiddo. You know what they say: if the mountain won't come to Muhammad…” Tony looks at Peter expectantly, as if he’s waiting for the teen to finish his sentence. Peter raise both his eyebrows and presses his lips into a line. An awkward silence envelops them. “Then Muhammad must go to the mountain,” Tony finishes lamely. Peter tries to stifle a laugh, but fails miserably.

“No one says that, Mr. Stark.” Tony narrows his eyes.

“Bruce says it.” Peter scoffs with a smile. _Of course Dr. Banner does._ Peter vaults over the back of the couch and plops onto the cushions. “This is a workshop,” Tony walks around the couch and leans on the armrest, “not a playground.”

“Any ground is technically playground if you play on it.” Peter smiles smugly and crosses his legs underneath him.

“You think you're clever for that one, don't you.” Tony jokingly rolls his eyes, but Peter nods.

“I'm hilarious, you just don't wanna admit it.”

“More like a smart ass, but sure, kid.” Tony lightly pushes Peter’s shoulder, who laughs. A buzzing sounds from behind them, which Peter instantly recognizes as his phone. He turns around and webs it to his hand. “Teenagers these days, so lazy.” He ignores Tony’s chastising to read May’s text. _Oh jeez, I didn't realize that it’s already almost five o’clock._

“I need to get home.” Peter is already off the couch and heading into the side room where he left his clothes. “May likes to see me before patrols and I need to study for an economics exam afterwards. It’s, like, my worst class too,” he explains as he changes back into the clothes he wore to school as fast as he can. When he walks back out, Tony shrugs his shoulders.

“I can just buy you some good grades,” Tony offers nonchalantly. Peter almost falls flat on his face out of pure shock, then looks up at Tony with wide eyes.

“Mr. Stark! You, you can't just _do_ that!” Tony scoffs before holding his arms out at his sides.

“I'm Tony Stark, I can do anything,” he states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. _Of course,_ Peter reminds himself, _why does this keep surprising me?_

“I'll just, y’know, study like everyone else,” Peter carefully says. Tony rolls his eyes, but doesn't argue.

“So, you're gonna go out on patrol, hm?”

“Well, kinda. Ned and MJ wanna have a movie night so I'm gonna do quick patrol first, then watch movies, then go out on patrol again, then study, then-”

“God, kid. You're making _my_ brain hurt. And I'm a genius.” Tony rubs his temples and exhales slowly. “How much sleep do you get?”

“Actually-”

“Don't answer that,” he interrupts again. “How about you take the night off, Underoos.”

“Um, that sounds…nice, Mr. Stark, but I can't. Spider-Man has a responsibility and-”

“And Peter Parker has the responsibility to be a crazy teenager. You're only sixteen once, enjoy it. I'll keep an eye out for any trouble and if there is, which there won't be, I'll get ahold of you. Alright?” He raises both eyebrows, awaiting Peter’s answer.

“…Okay. Thanks, Mr. Stark. I appreciate it.” Peter smiles warmly and Tony waves him off nonchalantly.

“Yeah, I'm the greatest. I know. Now run along and play nice. Go on.” Tony shoos the kid and, even though Peter wants to pester him a bit more, he walks toward the elevator with his backpack in hand. As he walks up to it, May’s suggestion somehow makes its way back into his mind and his feet slow to a stop.

“Hey, um, Mr. Stark?” Peter look over his shoulder. Tony is already tinkering with something on his workbench, but he looks up nonetheless.

“Yeah?” Peter wrings his hands together nervously and casts his eyes to the floor.

“Would you maybe wanna…play cards sometime?” His voice is small, but audible. “It could be anything, really! Like, uh, like poker or maybe blackjack or go fish. No! Not go fish! That's, that’s a little kid game. Stupid. But, poker is kinda fun and I-”

“Cards sound fun, kid. Tomorrow,” Tony agrees with a thumbs up before turning back to his work. _Tomorrow. Something to look forward to,_ Peter thinks as he nods with a small smile.

“Tomorrow,” he affirms. With that, Peter presses the lobby button and heads down. As soon as the elevator doors close, his phone vibrates again. And again. And again. _Ned is probably spamming me._ He pulls his phone out and is surprised to see a…group chat?

****

**_Guy in the Chair_ ** _and_ **_MJ_ **

MJ: _Hey, where’s your other half?_

Ned: _mj im literally in the other room_

Ned: _you can just come talk to me_

MJ: _Maybe if you came to help me make cookies with May we could talk._

Ned: _i told you already that i caaaant_

Ned: _…may took away my cooking privileges after peter and i tried to make a pizza smoothie and it exploded all over the kitchen_

MJ: _I hope you two realize you're idiots._

MJ: _We’re off topic. How come Peter’s internship is taking so long?_

Ned: _mj its an internship_

Ned: _those things take time_

Ned: _i think_

Ned: _i dont know how internships work_

MJ: _Last time I checked, internships don't go past 5 pm._

MJ: _And they typically last ten weeks to three months._

MJ: _Not six months._

MJ: _Not that I’ve been counting._

Peter: _hey guys, just finished working with Mr. Stark, be home soon_

Ned: _PETER!!!_

Peter: _NED!!!_

****

Peter laughs as he make his way from the Tower to the Bentley waiting out front. When he gets inside, he nods to Happy and turns his attention back to the group chat.

****

MJ: _Get a room._

Peter: _awe we can yell your name too!_

Ned: _MJ!!!_

Peter: _MJ!!!_

MJ: _I hate this family._

Peter: _so you admit we’re a family :)_

MJ: _We’re dysfunctional._

Ned: _a dysfunctional family_

 ** _Guy in the Chair_** _changed the conversation name to_ ** _Our Dysfunctional Family_**

Peter: _oh my god i love it_

MJ: _Of course you do._

Peter: _(◡‿◡✿)_

MJ: _Pansy_

Peter: _(ʘ‿ʘ✿) what you say ‘bout me_

Ned: _oh no_

Ned: _mj run_

Peter: _(ʘ‿ʘ)ノ ✿ hold my flower_

Ned: _✿＼(｡-_-｡) kick his ass, baby. I got yo flower_

MJ: _Ha. Knew it. You nerds are in love._

Ned: _FSDNCLNXKSH MJ NO_

Ned: _ITS JUST A MEME_

****

Peter is about to respond when Happy stops the car and unlocks the car doors for him.

“You've been oddly quiet. And,” Happy vaguely draws an invisible line from one of his cheeks to the other, “smiley.” Peter tilts his head. _Huh, I guess I am pretty happy._

“Yeah, just texting some friends. I'm gonna have a movie night with them and May!” Peter excitedly tells him.

 _“Friends?_ Since when do you have more than one?” Peter's jaw drops.

“I'll have you know that I'm a pretty popular guy!” he teases back with his head held high.

“Mhm. Have fun, stud,” Happy replies sarcastically. Peter smiles innocently before getting out. “And don't slam the door!” Happy reminds with an edge to his voice. Peter gingerly shuts the door and walks up to the seventh floor of his apartment building. Once he unlocks their door, he opens it as quietly as possible and tip toes inside. He peers around the corner to see Ned on the couch watching TV with a boxed Lego kit under each arm. True to their word, Peter turns his head to see May and MJ pulling a tray out of the oven. He instantly recognizes the smell of chocolate chip cookies. Finally, Ned spots him and bolts off the couch.

“Peter! You're here! Dude, look! My dad let me get the Millennium Falcon set,” Ned holds up one of the boxes, “and this is the one I was telling you about!” He holds out the other box labeled The Tower of Orthanc.

“No freaking way! That's so awesome!” Peter takes the box and looks over the pictures and labels. “Two thousand three hundred and fifty-nine pieces! How about the Millennium Falcon?!” Ned smirks knowingly.

“Seven thousand five hundred and forty-one.” Peter’s eyes slowly widen in awe as he stares at Ned.

“Thought I heard a nerdgasm,” MJ says as she walks into the living room with her arms crossed, but Peter is too shocked to react to her comment.

“That’s almost twice as much as the Death Star,” Peter says in disbelief. Ned slowly nods and then corrects him with,

“Three thousand five hundred and twenty-five more.” _Oh my god it's going to take us forever to finish this set and I'm going to enjoy every second of it._

“Fine, whatever. More cookies for us,” MJ speaks up, which immediately grabs both of the boys' attentions.

“You wouldn't dare,” Peter challenges with narrowed eyes.

“She would,” Ned regretfully confirms. MJ walks back towards the kitchen with a smirk. Ned and Peter make eye contact, then run into the kitchen. Peter skids around MJ to get straight to May, who’s hovering over the cooling cookies.

“Hey, May! Love you!” Peter quickly greets and gives her a peck on the cheek before snatching up a warm cookie.

“Well hello to you too. I should make cookies more often.” May chuckles and kisses the top of her nephew’s head as he bites into the cookie.

“Can I have one too?” Ned eagerly asks, scooting his way over to them. MJ watches the three of them while leaning on the adjacent counter, obviously entertained.

“Of course! Have at ‘em. MJ, would you like some?” May offers. MJ raises an eyebrow before shrugging her shoulders and closing the gap between them to grab a cookie of her own.

“Thank you,” she says politely.

“Not a problem. There’s plenty more snacks where that came from,” May reassures her, then looks down to the backpack that’s still hanging loosely over Peter’s shoulder. “That’s looking pretty beat up, do you need a new one?” Since Peter doesn't have to hide being Spider-Man from her anymore, he hasn't lost as many backpacks. Still, it’s not like patrol is a backpack-safe environment.

“Um, yeah. That’d be great. Please,” Peter nods. MJ eyes him carefully as she takes the next bite of her cookie.

“Don't you three spoil dinner, got it? I ordered pizza, so we can eat it while we watch the movie,” May smiles proudly. “I’ll go get pillows and blankets.” She excitedly hurries out of the room and down the hall.

“It’s okay! We don't need any! It’s not like we make pillow forts anymore!” Peter calls after her with a nervous laugh, glancing towards MJ. Ned taps Peter’s shoulder and whispers in his ear,

“Dude, we made pillow forts, like, two weeks ago.”

“But MJ doesn't know that,” Peter whispers back.

“You and Ned made them a couple weeks ago!” May calls back. Both Ned and Peter freeze, refusing to look over to the now snickering MJ.

“She knows _now,”_ Ned mumbles. May definitely did that on purpose and Peter vows to get revenge.

“Do you want me to heat you guys up some milk too?” MJ offers between snorts. Peter is about to argue when Ned speaks up first.

“Actually, hot cocoa sounds great,” Ned admits. Peter can't help but laugh and, somehow, all three of them end up laughing together in the kitchen when May comes back with an armful of blankets.

They start to get settled in front of the TV with May on the couch, MJ cross-legged on the floor, and Peter and Ned working on making a structurally sound pillow fort beside her. When the pizzas finally get there, Peter is about to dig in when May practically yanks him away from the boxes.

“Wash your hands, young man! I raised you better than that,” she scolds, earning Peter a grossed out look from MJ and a laugh from Ned.

“I just got back from working for Mr. Stark! He doesn't let you touch _anything_ without clean hands!” Peter holds up both his _clean_ hands in defense. He may not actually be an intern, but he wore the Spider-Man suit so his hands couldn't be cleaner.

 _“Now,”_ May repeats in a stern voice. Peter does as she says and sulks towards the bathroom to begrudgingly wash his hands. He knows he’s never going to hear the end of this from both MJ and Ned. Mostly MJ. Finally, he's able to eat his pizza peacefully alongside some of the most important people in his life. May picks out a movie for them, to avoid any arguments, while Ned and Peter start unboxing the Legos.

“So, you guys ready for the economics exam on Thursday?” Ned asks the room. MJ gives him a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders.

“I don't like to overstudy. It’ll psych me out.” She keeps her eyes on the Legos that are being spread across the floor by Ned.

“I'm gonna study after we finish the movie and again tomorrow. It helps me get rid of testing anxiety,” Peter answers with a smile. He likes to be as prepared as humanly possible. The only thing he's spontaneous about is Spider-Man. He distantly wonders if his Spidey Sense would work on tests if he tells it he's _in danger_ of getting a bad grade…

“How are you gonna do that with the internship?” MJ questions.

“I’ll find a way. I always do,” Peter answers honestly. Even when he was Spider-Man alone, he always managed to balance it with school. Still, Mysterio might make that a bit more difficult.

“Well next time you see Tony Stark, ask him if he believes in climate change,” MJ asks in a monotone voice. Peter practically chokes on his pizza and looks between her and Ned with wide eyes.

“I mean, probably? Most likely?” Peter doesn't even try to hide how baffled he is at the sudden question. “He’s not an idiot, he’s a _genius_. Climate change isn't an opinion, it’s scientifically proven.”

“Well if he does, which he should, let him know that the amount of multinational factories he has mass producing tech for the Avengers is destroying the ecosystem.” By the time MJ finishes, Ned and Peter are utterly speechless. May, on the other hand, absolutely laughs as if it’s the best thing she has ever heard.

“You’re my new favorite,” she says between laughter.

“Hey!” Ned and Peter say simultaneously. MJ simply smiles at her victory.

“Oh, and remind him that taking a minor out of the country definitely counts as kidnapping regardless of status,” she adds. The rest of them freeze. Peter stiffens and May immediately stops laughing. Ned rapidly looks from MJ to Peter multiple times. “Oh come on, Parker. I'm not oblivious. You quit all your clubs except for decathlon and then you barely showed up for that. Disappearing at decathlon in D.C. only for Spider-Man to save everyone at the Monument. Disappearing at Homecoming only for Spider-Man to crash a plane. Pretty obvious. People are just stupid.”

“Well, I, I, um, you see…” Peter waits for an excuse to come to mind, but he comes up empty. “Yep. That about sums it up.” He nods with his lips pressed together. If being friends with MJ has taught him anything, it’s that she’s extremely hardheaded. Once she figures something out, which she eventually does, there’s no convincing her otherwise.

“Dude!” Ned scolds breathlessly, but MJ is unfazed.

“She’s definitely my favorite,” May chuckles.

“You _can't_ tell anyone, okay? Like, ever. It’s really important and, and more people than I'd like already know. Knowing who _I am_ puts people in danger.” Peter stresses his point as much as he can. His last family member and best friend already know about Spider-Man, and now MJ. That’s way too many important people he's not willing to lose.

“Peter, I’ve known for months. If I wanted to out you, I would've done it already.” _That’s…a really good point._ Peter nods a few times, then smiles slightly.

“Thanks,” he says. MJ slightly punches his shoulder.

“No problem.” She smiles back. May lets out an audible sigh of relief before saying,

“Thank goodness, now I get to parent you.” Peter turns towards her with his eyebrows pulled together.

“Wha-”

“Have you eaten enough today?” May interrupts. “Because you're looking scrawny. You don't get to go out on patrols if you haven't eaten enough.”

“May, I'm f-”

“And did you drink plenty of water? I don't exactly know how your metabolism works but I'm pretty sure you need to drink a lot more water and you don't even carry around a water bottle,” she continues to scold. Ned and MJ attempt to hold back their laughing, but it obviously doesn't work and they burst out laughing.

“Y’know what? I'm disowning all of you. You’re all traitors.” Peter tries to keep a straight face, but ends up laughing too. He can't remember the last time he felt this genuinely happy. Maybe things are finally looking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (✿ ◠‿◠)ﾉ oh.  
> (✿ ◉◡◉)ﾉ oh no.  
> (✿ ⊙◡⊙)ﾉ i'm all out of fluff.
> 
> QUICK IMPORTANT NOTE: @nathvods on Instagram made fanart for this chapter!!! ITS SO GORGEOUS YOU MUST GO LOOK AT IT PLEASE. Plus it's a mini Easter egg hunt!!  
> https://www.instagram.com/nathvods/p/ByvIdBrF_q6/?igshid=scuum1tez0rb
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	18. Out of Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I hope you're prepared for today's chapter :))) Good luck! You'll need it! Have fun and stay safe
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS but also spoilers so if you don't normally get triggered scroll on past, but if you do TW: panic attack!

Ned, MJ, and Peter take their time walking to school, which is now only a few blocks away. They decided to walk to school together after they spent the night at the apartment. The sleeping over part wasn't exactly planned out, they just accidentally fell asleep after the second movie. May decided to call Ned and MJ’s parents to let them know they were spending the night.

“All I'm saying,” Ned continues his rant, “is that it wasn't the _entire_ military that was trying to destroy Giant. It was Manly who was so set on blowing him up! The rest of the military was standing down when Manly decided to nuke everyone,” he recalls bitterly. If you couldn't already tell, they watched Iron Giant last night. A true, childhood masterpiece. But of course, MJ is critiquing it. Well, she’s critiquing mankind, more specifically. Again.

“All _I'm_ saying is that just because we have guns, doesn't mean we should use them. Humans are trigger happy. They shoot anything that moves. Not everything is solved with bullets, but if we knew that there wouldn't have been _two_ World Wars to end all wars,” MJ counters effortlessly with her hands in her pockets. Peter is about to join in the debate when his phone beeps in his pocket. He quickly pulls out his phone to see an alert banner lighting up his screen:

****

**New York Police Department**

**8:08 am- Ongoing- Grand Central Station, 89 E 42nd St, New York, NY 10017, unidentified suspect causing a public disturbance. Armed and dangerous. No shots fired.**

**Public Safety**

**New York County**

****

_Oh shit._ Peter immediately springs into action, pulling the backpack off his shoulder which instantly catches the attention of his friends.

“What's wrong?” Ned notices Peter’s sudden shift in mood.

“Someone’s attacking Grand Central Station. I gotta go.”

“Do you need me to go back home to my computer?” Ned offers. Peter shakes his head, even though it would be nice to have his Guy in the Chair.

“You two get to class. Can you cover for me?” Peter quickly asks. MJ shrugs her shoulders before saying,

“We can try.” With her confirmation, Peter sprints toward the nearest alley. “You're just going to change there?” she calls after him.

“Yep!” Peter disappears into the secluded alley and yanks the suit from his backpack. He quickly changes, webs his backpack to a brick wall, and starts swinging towards Manhattan. “Hey, Karen! Can you tap me into the Grand Central Station surveillance system?” Her voice comes to life, as cheerful as ever.

“Of course, Peter,” she calmly replies. “Don't forget that you have a test in economics tomorrow. You have a B- in that class, which is currently your lowest grade by twelve percent.” Peter winces at the thought of having anything less than an A- on his transcript. He swings through the streets as fast as he can and shoots a web to a beam of the Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge.

“I know, I won't forget, but can we please focus on the whole catching the bad guy thing first?” As soon as he finishes, a small window of footage pops up on his interface. “Thank you!” He makes it across the bridge and heads toward Grand Central Station. Unfortunately, he wasn't prepared for who was on the surveillance. “Mysterio?! What’s he doing now?” _This is bad. This is bad._

“He appears to be antagonizing the security guards,” Karen answers his rhetorical question. It’s true though. The security guards are firing shot after shot at Mysterio, none of which are actually doing any damage. _He’s probably using an illusion, but the guards don't know that. Okay, this is where the training comes in._ Peter is almost there when Karen speaks again. “Would you like me to contact Tony Stark?”

“Wait, what?” Her sudden question catches him off guard. “Why would I want to call Mr. Stark?” Peter lands on the roof of Grand Central Station and sees a steady stream of people running out of the enormous building.

“Tony Stark informed me that you are not to engage with the villain known as Mysterio alone,” Karen says regretfully. _Of course he did. I don't have time for this._ Peter swings down from the roof and into the building over the heads of the panicking civilians.

“Well, he was pretty happy when I kept the Washington Monument from blowing up, so I just like to think of his rules as guidelines. Send him an update afterwards. I'm my own hero.” All the security guards have their guns trained on the overly confident Mysterio. Now all Peter needs to do is figure out where the real Mysterio is, because he has a feeling this isn't him.

“That was right before he took your suit, Peter,” Karen practically scolds. Peter is about to give a witty remark when Mysterio perks up at his entrance.

“Oh look! Our guest of honor has finally arrived!” Mysterio announces with his arms held open.

“Awe, I'm flattered! But don't you think it’s rude to greet me with an illusion?” Peter shouts over the roaring crowd that’s still trying to get out. _Mysterio must have used some kind of illusion to scare them out. I just have to keep his focus on me, not them._

“Why start the show before the audience arrives?” Mysterio counters. _This guy seriously has some screws loose._

“I hate to break it to you, but uh,” Peter jerks his thumb towards the exit, “you’re losing all your audience.” Mysterio gives a low, deep chuckle.

“I have all the audience I need right here,” his voice is omnipresent as he shouts. Somehow, he floats into the air towards the ceiling. With his arms raised, dark thunder clouds swirl around him and roll towards Peter and the guards. _Okay, at least I know this isn't real,_ Peter comforts himself. The security guards on the other hand…

“Stay outta our way!” One of them shouts at Peter before the lot of them open fire.

“Woah!” Peter practically jumps out of his skin at the echoing gunshots that seem to rip through the air. “You guys, it’s an illusion! It’s fake!” His words don't get through to them. He tries to shift his attention from the guards to figuring out where the real Mysterio is, since obviously these people won't cooperate. He shoots a web to the clock mounted on the top of the ticket booth and pulls himself towards it to perch on top. “Karen, scan for all heat signatures.” A layer of infrared vision is added. It immediately confirms Peter’s theory that the Mysterio in the air is a fake when it shows no heat signature. Peter’s eyes dart over the rest of the floor, seeing the guard’s and panicked civilian’s heat signatures before they land on the real Mysterio’s unmistakable figure. _Man, this guy sticks out like a sore thumb._ Mysterio is slightly obscured by one of the many beige, brick columns that support Grand Central Station. Above him hangs an American flag held up by strings. _This should be fun._

Peter shoots two Splitter Webs at the four strings holding up the flag and yanks the flag down. It starts falling towards the ground, effectively capturing Mysterio’s attention long enough for Peter to swing in. As he swings toward Mysterio, he fires a Web Grenade at the villain’s feet which instantly engulfs his legs.

“I thought you were smarter than this, Spider.” Mysterio seems amused as Peter flies over him. Peter makes sure to catch the flag before it hits the ground. He lands with the flag, which is easily the length of at least three of him.

“Jeez, you almost let our flag touch the ground! That’s, like, super disrespectful man.” He throws the flag up and webs it to the nearest wall. Unfortunately, just like in their last fight, the webbing around Mysterio’s legs is dissolved by a liquid oozing from a nozzle. _Definitely a chemical abrasive. I’ll bring that up to Mr. Stark this afternoon._ “So, what’s the story this time? Couldn't catch your train and decided to throw a tantrum instead? Look, it happens to the best of us.”

“I wouldn't get too comfortable,” Mysterio warns. Suddenly, multiple Mysterios phase into existence around and in front of him. _This…complicates things a bit._

“These odds are great! Everyone loves an underdog!” _Just think about training. There’s only one real Mysterio, the rest can't even touch me, just like the holographic robots._

“Joke while you can. You’re not even the main event.” Mysterio’s voice surrounds Peter again, seeming to come from everywhere. The closest Mysterio runs towards Peter, fists tightened so much that his leather gloves are creased. _No Spidey Sense warning._ Peter doesn't react and Mysterio goes straight through him. Peter takes steady breaths, trying to stay calm.

“Do any of you happen to have Economics flashcards on you? I have an exam tomorrow that I _really_ can't afford to fail,” Peter banters to try to maintain his composure. That’s when they all rush him. He widens his stance and tries his best to focus on all his senses. _The ones that aren't real don't make noise. They don't create a breeze with their movements either. Focus, focus, foc-_ One of the Mysterio’s arms suddenly swings towards his chest and Peter flinches, his fingers subconsciously pressing down on his web-shooter. The web goes through the Mysterio and attaches to the floor. _Come on Peter, you're better than this._ Tingling erupts at the base of his skull. He whips around and redirect an oncoming punch from the real Mysterio, but then Mysterio disappears back into the onslaught of fake Mysterios. “Hey, security dudes! Just follow my lead!” Peter calls back to the guards who seem to be doing a distinct lack of helping. He notices one of them talking to a young girl who looks upset, but he knows he can't focus on that right now. Flashes of color erratically swirl around him as the illusions attack and sprint back and forth. Chills spread down his arms. He quickly jumps to avoid the swift kick to his legs and shoots a Sticky Web to the back of Mysterio’s cloak. Peter yanks him closer so that he can punch him into the tiled floor. When Mysterio crashes into the floor, all the other fake Mysterios disappear. The tiles crack under the pressure of Mysterio’s massive metal suit. “I don't see very much lead following!” Peter yells when the guards _still_ don't do anything.

“What exactly are we supposed to do?! Guns didn't work!” one of them counters. _Are guns the only option to them?! Jeez, I'm starting to sound like MJ. Maybe I should start a "don't shoot guns, shoot webs" campaign._ Gas starts to flow freely from Mysterio’s suit. _Uh oh._

“Get as far away from the gas as you can! All of y-” Peter is cut off by his Spidey Sense yelling at him to move, but he doesn't have enough warning before Mysterio lifts both his legs to kick Peter square in the chest. The kick sends Peter rocketing into the far wall, causing concrete to break apart at the harsh impact. All the air is forced from Peter’s lungs and he can't gasp in a breath. He tries not to think about his brief inability to breathe or the concrete dust that falls onto his shoulders, both of which remind him too much of Homecoming night. _Now isn't the time to panic_ . He quickly shakes off the sensation and forces himself to take a breath. No harm done. He blocks the next incoming punch from Mysterio. The hand-to-hand combat ensues where Peter tries his best to overpower Mysterio, but the man is still able to keep up somehow. _There’s no way this guy is enhanced, right?_

“Remember when I said I knew what your weakness is?” Mysterio questions. His tone holds a smugness that makes Peter worry.

“Don't you think it’s a bit early in our relationship to start reminiscing? At least ask me out to dinner first.” Peter keeps his voice light despite his sudden anxiousness.

“I’ll break your spirit along with every bone in your sarcastic body. Then, _I’ll_ be the hero.” _Woah._

“That doesn't _sound_ very heroic,” Peter warn him, skeptically. _Danger. Move._ He shifts his stance as a thin, red laser suddenly shoots from the shoulder of Mysterio’s suit. It barely misses Peter’s face. Peter is about to make a remark about Mysterio’s aim, but all his vibrato disappears when he hears a high pitched scream. He whips his head around to see that more of the fake Mysterios are “attacking” the guards, leaving the little girl by herself. His heart drops when he sees the orange, glowing trail that the laser scorched into a column of stone above the girl. Large chunks of stone begin to break off. _The beams are gonna collapse and the little girl will be trapped and then we'll all be trapped oh god._

Peter doesn't waste any time in sprinting towards her, using his webs to get him there even faster. Her eyes are wide with fear and his heart practically stops. _I can't let it happen again. I have to save her. I can't let everything cave in._ He uses a Splitter Web to shoot two strands of webbing at the largest piece of stone plummeting towards her. He tugs the stone chunk towards himself, simultaneously keeping it from crushing her and pulling himself forward. There isn't time to web everything else that's falling. _Everything's falling apart all over again._ When he’s close enough, he follows through with his swing and lets go of the web to dive for her.

He presses the girl as close to his chest as possible and holds the back of her head with his free hand, tucking her underneath his chin. He cradles her as much as he can and lands on his back to take all the damage of the fall. It barely does anything to him, but it could have seriously injured her. _You're okay Peter, you're alive. She’s alive. You're not crushed or trapped. You're okay._ Peter tries to calm his panicked heart and looks up to see if the girl is okay. Green, watery eyes stare back at him.

“Oh no, please don't cry! I promise you're okay.” Peter makes sure he doesn't see a scratch on her before looking back towards Mysterio. By the time he looks, Mysterio is already gone. _Of course he is, the wimp._ Peter lifts the little girl off of him and helps her to stand. He can tell she's trying to hold back tears. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He wipes a stray tear that falls down her cheek. “Do you know where your mom and dad are?” Something he didn't expect was for her to sign her answer. Like, sign language. He’s shocked speechless. Then he notices the hearing aids in her ears and mentally kicks himself for not noticing sooner. “Um, well, we’re gonna try to find them. Is that okay?” She nods her head. _God, she can't be more than eight years old._

“Hey, Spider-Man!” a guard yells from across the station as two of them walk towards Peter. The girl quickly hides behind Peter's leg and hugs it. The action makes him want to cry, but instead he gently places his hand on the top of her head.

“Um, just so you guys know, I can break out of handcuffs,” Peter warns them ahead of time. One of them chuckles before speaking.

“We aren't going to arrest you,” he assures.

“Actually,” the woman cuts in, “we wanted to thank you for what you did. You're pretty brave. Not to mention how you saved her.” She smiles warmly. Peter could get used to people actually being nice to him as Spider-Man for once.

“Yeah. Not half bad, kid,” the man agrees.

“Hey! I'm not a-” Peter cuts himself off when his voice cracks and he clears his throat. “I'm not a kid,” he repeats in a deeper voice. The woman holds back a laugh, but the man openly snickers.

 _“ Sure_ you're not. We’ll take care of the girl and make sure she finds her parents. Besides, you probably have to get to _school_ _.”_ The woman smirks and Peter wishes she could see him roll his eyes. Unfortunately, she's right. He’s going to be so late for class if he doesn't hurry. He just hopes he doesn't get detention for being late…again.

“I do have to go. Not that I have, have school or anything! ‘Cause I'm not a kid! Nope! But I do have, like, uh, spider stuff to attend to. So I'm gonna, y'know…” Peter looks down to the girl and gives her an encouraging pat on the back. She seems hesitant at first, but slowly walks toward the guards. The woman gently takes the girl’s hand in hers, and the girl visibly relaxes. Before Peter shoots a web, the girl turns back to him and signs. This time, he knows what she signs: _“_ _Thank you_ _.”_ Peter never wanted to know sign language more than right then when he wishes he could sign back, _“_ _You're welcome_ _.”_ Instead, he settles for a wave.

By a stroke of pure luck, he’s all too familiar with what she signs next. She holds up her hand with her middle and ring finger pressed into her palm. The sign is “ _I love you,_ ” and also happens to be the hand position Peter makes whenever he shoots a web. His heart swells and he mirrors her sign, causing her to smile widely. Reluctantly, Peter swings out of Grand Central Station towards school.

Peter has Karen text Ned and MJ in the group chat to let them know everything went okay and that he’s on his way. Their English teacher is pretty understanding, so he doesn't think he'll be getting detention. He makes sure to stop in the alleyway he changed in to get his backpack, which is thankfully still there. Before he gets to school, he stops about a block away to change out of his suit and fix his messed up hair to resemble some sort of normalcy. Then, he jogs the rest of the way and walks inside the front doors to face the music. When he walks into class, a few people look up, including Ned and MJ, but the majority look back down when they see it's only him. Peter is kind of known for being late these days. He goes up to Mr. Villarreal, but his teacher speaks before he can.

“Michelle already told me about your predicament, you can take a seat.” Peter counts his blessings and scurries to the open seat between his two friends.

“What'd you tell him?” he asks MJ. She keeps her eyes trained on the board as she whispers,

“Unexpected subway stop.” _Huh, that's actually a plausible excuse._

“See Ned,” Peter turns to his best friend, “that’s how you lie.” Ned almost looks insulted as he stammers to defend himself.

“You know I'm not a good liar! I get anxious!” he whispers harshly.

“No excuse can redeem you from telling Mrs. Warren that I was gonna miss class because I ‘fell asleep on the subway and woke up in Manhattan,’” Peter recalls bitterly. It wouldn't have been a big deal if Flash didn't give him a hard time over it for the following _week_.

“You gotta learn to let things go! I miss when you sucked at holding a grudge,” Ned whines.

When the bell rings and they walk out into the hall for passing period, Peter is tempted to call Tony. He has never called Tony first before, especially without something along the lines of bad news. He always thought that the first time he'd call Tony would be because he was in over his head in a fight or got hurt and didn't want May to see. Turns out, it’ll be to tell Tony a _good_ thing. Peter gets to tell his mentor that he applied his training in combat and even saved a little girl. He can't wait to tell him everything! Before his brief moment of courage dissipates, Peter scrolls to Tony’s contact and calls. The phone rings. And rings. And rings…then goes to voicemail. He hangs up before he hears the tone, not wanting to add a voicemail to Tony’s pile. _Mr. Stark runs a company, he's probably super busy. Besides, all good things to those who wait! That’s what May always says._

For the rest of the school day, Peter keeps getting glances and stares from Flash. Every time his eyes land on Peter, he can feel a dull tingling at the base of his skull, which is never encouraging. If even his Spidey Sense is picking up on Flash’s gaze, then he knows it has to be bad. _What'd I ever do to him? Stay strong, Peter. Don't let him get to you. I'm okay. Mr. Stark is counting on me._ The mantra has become a comfort recently and he has no idea why, but it always gets him through a rough day. Just _knowing_ that someone like Tony is looking forward to their training makes Peter’s heart soar. _Mr. Stark is counting on me. Don't disappoint him,_ he repeats it again when he hears Flash’s harsh stomps coming towards him.

“Hey, _Penis Parker!”_ Flash calls with a lot more venom and spite in his voice than usual. _Mr. Stark is counting on me._

“What do you want now, Flash?” Peter mutters, but doesn't stop walking. Ned and MJ are waiting for him in the cafeteria and MJ knows exactly how to get Flash to shut up. Peter would do it himself, but Peter Parker doesn't get stand up for himself. He quickens his pace.

“You think you can walk away from me?!” _Yeah, I'm doing it pretty easily too,_ Peter wants to say. Instead, he presses his lips together. When he goes to turn the corner, Flash leaps in front of his path. “Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can show up late to class and act like you're some special exception?” he demands. “I get detention if I pull something like that!” His voice gets more frustrated he seems to get. Peter’s ears reverberate at his yells, but he doesn't show it.

“That's not my fault.” Peter tries to walk around him, but Flash steps in front of him again. Flash chuckles humorlessly.

“I think someone needs an attitude adjustment. I bet your _friend_ the Hulk would know all about that.” Peter resists the urge to laugh. _If only he knew._ Just then, Peter’s phone rings, loudly echoing throughout the halls.

“Not that I'm not having fun, but I'm gonna take this because I'm not having fun.” Peter sidesteps him and runs down the hall.

“You better watch yourself! I’ll get you tomorrow! I'll teach you what respect is, Penis!” _Ha, like you of all people know what respect is._ Peter turns a corner and fishes the phone out of his pocket. _Oh my god, Mr. Stark is calling back!_ He wastes no more time in answering.

“Hey, Mr. Stark!” he greets enthusiastically.

“Hi, kid. About this afternoon-”

“Yeah, I can't wait! A lot of stuff happened this morning before school today! You might've seen it on the news already but Mysterio attacked Grand Central Station! I know you don't want me fighting him but, in my defense, I didn't know it was him until I was pretty much already there. It wasn't on purpose, so you can't be mad. And Karen left you a message. But I actually, like, held my own against him! He had this weird chemical abrasive thing that ate my webbing so we might have to do some tweaking with the web fluid formula. Oh, and I used what we practiced in training! Sure, I still got distracted once and flinched and got kicked, but I actually listened to my senses! It's not perfect but that's what the training is for! Practice makes perfect! Well, May says practice makes permanent but I like to stay positive, y’know?”

“Kid-”

“Oh! And I saved this little girl! She was deaf so I didn't know what she was signing, but I think I want to learn sign language! It’ll help me communicate with more people!”

“Pete-”

“You're right, we can talk about it more when I get to the workshop after school. I can't wait to play cards with you! It means a lot to me and I'm really exci-”

 _“Peter!”_ Peter snaps his mouth shut.

“Sorry. I was, I was rambling. My bad. Go ahead.” He catches his breath and waits for Tony to speak.

“We can't train today. I'm booked all day and Pepper hasn't given me much wiggle room. I can't reschedule any meetings today.” Peter’s heart practically stops. _I hope he and Pepper aren't still fighting but…I thought that…_ He composes himself and swallows.

“Yeah. I, uh, I understand, Mr. Stark.” He forces his voice to sound normal, but he can feel his throat start to tighten.

“Still need Happy to drive you home?” Tony asks distractedly. Peter’s eyes sting. He bites down on his cheek.

“No, it's, it’s fine.” _It's not fine. It's not fine. It's never just fine. “_ I'll take the subway and-”

“Cool. See you tomorrow.” Tony doesn't wait for a response before ending the call. The line goes dead, but Peter is frozen in place as his heart pounds in his chest. He stands motionless with the phone still up to his ear. Tears suddenly fall towards the floor. _Why am I so upset? So…hurt? Mr. Stark isn't counting on me. He never was. He'd never count on a sixteen year old kid._ His hands start to shake. _It shouldn't upset me this much. Why am I letting this get to me? I knew he didn't really care. No, he just has to focus on work. That's all it is. So why does it feel like my heart has been ripped out and stomped in the dirt? I knew it was coming eventually. He already did this once._ It gets harder to breathe. He knows what's coming next. He doesn't waste another second before running down the hall and out of the school. _I need to get away. An alley. Something._

He can hear the blood pumping through his ears until it's almost too loud to hear anything else. He bolts across the street to an alley and, quickly making sure no one else is around, slips on his web-shooters to pull himself onto the roof of a building. As soon as he lands, his legs give out under the pressure and he drops to his knees. The pressure of everything. School, being Spider-Man, making sure May doesn't know the worst of it, making sure Ned doesn't get in the line of fire, wanting to make Tony proud, the nightmares. It's all too much. _Too much._

The tears won't stop. _Stupid, stupid, stupid emotions! You're supposed to be a hero! Heroes don't have breakdowns! They don't have anxiety!_ Suddenly he's on his hands and knees, his hands digging into the gravel until his knuckles turn white. _He never cared. He never cared. He never cared. He never cared._ He pulls his knees to his chest, lowers his head, and sobs. The sobs cause his chest to constrict, wracking his entire body. He keeps his lips pressed together to not make too much noise, otherwise he's pretty sure he would scream.

 _I shouldn't be letting this hurt me but I can't help it and it feels like I'm dying._ The sobs won't stop and he squeezes his eyes shut. _What did I do wrong this time? Was it something I said or did? Were the cards too much to ask? Did he see the Mysterio fight on the news? What did I do? What did I do?!_ This time he does lets out a scream. The loudest scream he can possibly muster that has every single ounce of his frustrations and misery. It tears up his throat, making it raw in one fell swoop. His entire body shakes and he can't tell if he's breathing anymore. He just wants the pain to stop. It's the worst kind of pain. The kind May can't see and Ned can't bandage up. _Oh god what would they say if they saw me. They can't ever see me like this. May already saw me after_ he _took away the suit, she can't see that again._ Pins and needles engulf his hands and his heart skips beats. It's too hot and he can't breathe and everything hurts and he just want everything to _stop. Give me a break for once!_ He screams out again, knowing no one will care if they hear him. Knowing no one is coming to help him, because he's the one who helps everyone else.

When he opens his eyes, black dots obscure his vision. _When was the last time I breathed?_ He clenches his jaw. His head pounds. Finally, he rolls onto his side and hugs his knees. It's the only source of comfort he's going to get this time. It hurts even more than the last time it happened, where he at least had Tony to help him through it. He manages to gasp in a breath, but it turns into more broken sobs.

Suddenly the cars are too loud. A car honks and he swears he has never heard anything so ear piercing. It's hard to feel his hands but he forces them to clamp over his ears. _Why do I have to get sensory overload when this happens? Why can't I just pretend like it never happened?_ His breaths are quick and jagged, but at least he’s breathing, right? That's always a plus. He tries to open his eyes again, but the light tries to rip them out. He closes them with a gasp. _Shit._ He carefully pries a hand from his ear and endures the onslaught of sounds to get his mask out. As soon as he puts it on, his muscles relax. Everything is dimmed down to a bearable level and he has never been so glad to have the mask.

“Hello, Peter.” _Oh no. I forgot about Karen._

“Hey, Karen.” His voice comes out raspy and forced. He holds back another sob and rolls to his back. It's silent for a few seconds.

“You appear to be in distress. Your heart rate is elevated and you are showing signs of having just had an anxiety attack. Would you like me to call someone?” Her voice is soft in a way that makes Peter think of May. The tears well up again.

“No,” his voice cracks. “I just, I just wanna lay here. For now.” He sniffs and does his best to ignore just how childish he feels. A particularly cold breeze causes him to shiver, but then he can't stop.

“You are showing signs of hypoperfusion,” Karen warns. _Shock? Why would I be going into shock?_ “I suggest getting warm immediately, otherwise I will be forced to contact Tony Stark.” The mention of Tony’s name causes Peter’s muscles to tense and heart rate to speed up all over again.

“You have to promise me you won't call Mr. Stark. Please, please, please, _please_. I swear it'll only make things worse if you do. It'd be counterintuitive,” he tries to reason with her. When she doesn't respond, he adds, “If anything happens, call Ned. He knows how to help. Then MJ, then May, then Happy, _then_ Mr. Stark. Last resort only.” His teeth chatter as he tries to speak clearly. If Karen could sigh, Peter is pretty sure she’d do that.

“Alright.” Peter puts on the rest of his suit and Karen immediately activates the heaters. _Deep breaths._ He rests his chin on his knees and tries his best to stop crying. “Do you want to talk about it?” Karen inquires gently. Peter seriously considers her offer. It would be nice to talk to someone, at least just to get it out of his system. He knows that bottling up the feelings is bad, May tells him that all the time, but…

“I'm okay. Thanks, Karen,” he says genuinely.

“My pleasure.” Peter can hear the empathy in her voice and it makes him feel a bit less alone. The weight is still there, but it's more bearable. He decides to stay on the roof a bit longer, thinking he might as well get some patrolling done. _It's just one day of school, no one will care if I skip the last half. Besides, I don't think I can handle going back there right now._

“Mute everyone's calls and texts except for May.”

“Done,” Karen confirms. Peter doesn't want to hear Ned's concerned voice or see MJ’s suspicious texts. He _definitely_ doesn't want to see Tony's contact pop up on his interface. _Not that he’ll bother to call._ Peter keeps May unmuted because if he missed one of her calls, she’d murder him. Besides that, he can't have anymore distractions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (´•ω•｀) don't worry  
> c(´•ω•｀) it'll be okay  
> (´•ω•｀) maybe  
> (´•ω•｀) thank you for reading
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	19. I Did it For Something Bigger Than Myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday! For all those who have finals coming up, like myself, good luck! Don't overwork yourselves and get plenty food n sleep.
> 
> **ALSO I finished my Endgame Fix-It fic one-shot!! Going to be publishing it tomorrow, so if that's something you might wanna read then keep an eye out ;)
> 
> This next series of events was a lot of fun, so I hope you all have fun with it too :) No trigger warnings! Have fun and stay safe!

Of course the one day that Peter needs the distraction, patrol is absolutely uneventful. He should count it as a win that no one is in danger, but the selfish part of him hoped he could do some fighting to get his mind off of everything that happened. It's about 4 pm when he gets the inevitable call from May. He lands on the nearest rooftop and takes a steadying breath before answering.

“Hey,” is all he can muster.

“Are you okay?!” May’s frantic voice pierces his eardrums. “I saw what happened on the news and then Ned called me saying you didn't go to class after lunch and you didn't answer MJ’s texts! We agreed on no more crazy stunts! We need to communicate!” Lack of communication seems to be a common theme lately.

“I'm sorry…” His voice breaks halfway through.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” May’s tone softens considerably once she notices something is wrong. Peter can't hold back the waterworks anymore.

“I, I don't know  _ why _ it made me so, so upset, y’know? I shouldn't care. But, but I  _ do _ and I don't  _ want _ to because it, it hurts so damn much.” He wants to keep explaining everything but he's cut off by a sob constricting his lungs.

“I can't help you if you don't tell me what happened,” May presses gently, but Peter can tell that she’s worried.

“Mr. Stark cancelled this afternoon and, and I was really excited. I got my, my hopes up. We were gonna play cards.” He sniffs and tries to hold himself together. It all sounds so childish.

“Where are you?” May’s voice is hard. “I'm coming to pick you up.”

“No! No, it’s okay. I’ll swing home. I'm not too far. I’ll see you then.” If he can't be strong for himself, then Peter knows he has to be strong for her. He knows May didn't ask for any of this extra stress.

“Stay safe, please.”

“I will.” He ends the call and, even though he feels like staying out all night to distract himself, he heads home. It takes all of five minutes to get back to their apartment and he's quick to climb in the window. He loosens the suit and takes off the mask to put on regular clothes before May can burst into his room, which is exactly what she does. She must've heard him close the window because she's in his room by the time he has his clothes on. She doesn't waste any time in pulling him into a tight hug. One of her hands grabs the back of his head while the other rubs his back. Peter’s arms instantly wrap around her and he lets everything go. All his emotions, anxieties, fears, everything, pours out of him in gut wrenching sobs. He doesn't think he has ever felt so shattered without a good reason.

“Why does it feel so bad?” he mumbles into her soft sweater with his eyes shut. She sighs.

“Because when the people we care about hurt us, we feel bad. It hurts more than it would if it were a stranger or someone who’s not as close. Especially when they don't realize how much they’ve hurt us. Sometimes they come around, sometimes you have to explain it to them. You might have to explain it to him because I've never met a genius as dense as Tony Stark.” She tries to lighten the mood, but his chest still aches. Luckily, Peter’s senses seem to be more bearable.

“It’s just that whenever I think he cares, he does something like this. It…” he loses his train of thought and buries his face in her shoulder instead. May shushes him, massaging the back of his head.

“I know, baby. Just let it out. There’s nothing wrong with being upset.” For some reason, her words snap Peter out of it.

“No.” She pulls him back and looks at him partly in confusion and partly in concern. “No, no, no, y'know what? He doesn't get to make me feel like this.” Peter shakes his head and lets his aunt go. “I’ve already wasted too much of my time worrying about what he thinks! It doesn't matter what he thinks! I don't care! I became Spider-Man all by myself! I didn't need him! I still don't! I knew what the right thing was and I did it  _ months _ before he even thought about meeting me! I did it all alone! I help people every day! I, I find people’s pets and stop cars and fight robbers and, and I’m  _ great  _ at it!” May looks at her nephew through pained, watery eyes.

“You’re fantastic. That doesn't mean-”

“No. I’ve always put everyone before myself! I never ask for anything!  _ Ever!  _ I got through six months of being Spider-Man in a stupid homemade suit saving people! And then I kept doing it after he treated me like crap! I don't need him around for me to be a good hero! I already am one!” Peter stops to catch his breath and fiercely wipes his eyes. May keeps her gaze locked on him as if he's too fragile to touch. She looks at him with such pure  _ concern _ that all of Peter’s anger dissipates. Instead, his lip quivers and his throat aches from holding back tears. “How come I'm not good enough for him?” His voice cracks. May pulls him back into a hug without hesitation and he melts into it.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise. You're more than good enough. You're incredible and I love you so so so  _ so _ much. You can't even fathom how much I love you.” She kisses the top of his head and just cradles him as he cries. Everything Peter does feels pathetic, but having May be there for him makes it all bearable.

“I love you too,” Peter reciprocates with all of his heart and soul. May pulls back and wipes his tears away with her thumbs.

“What do you say we order in tonight? Pizza? Larb?” Peter chuckles lightly, causing her to smile. “Then we can get a bunch of blankets to cuddle on the couch and watch reruns of  _ Friends.” _ Peter nods gratefully, but then remembers something.

“You have a late night at the hospital,” he reminds her with a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

“I'll have someone cover my shift, it's not a problem. You're more important,” May reassures. Peter smiles, but ultimately shakes his head.

“We’re gonna get behind on rent if you miss a shift. I'll be fine, promise. Besides, you gotta go be a superhero in the ER.” Guilt encompasses him, but he tries to look as confident as he can. He doesn't want her to miss work just because of him.

“I'm so proud of you, you know that, right?” May brushes one of his unruly curls from his forehead.

“I know. I'm proud of you too.” She kisses him on the forehead and guides him out of his room.

“There's leftovers in the fridge and dessert in the freezer.  _ Promise _ me you'll eat your dinner first, understand? Are you sure you don't want me to order something before I leave?” Her expression is slightly pained, which probably means Peter is not the only one feeling guilty.

“May, I'm sixteen! I can make myself dinner.” She gives him a skeptical look accompanied by a smirk.

“Alright, genius. And don't stay up too late. Love you!” Peter playfully rolls his eyes.

“Love you too,” he calls as she shuts the door behind her and locks it. Peter stands there for a few moments, his muscles not exactly wanting to move. His entire body is exhausted from the anxiety and unbridled emotions that poured out of him. Now he just feels kind of…empty. He snaps himself out of the trance. The only thing worse than sensory overload is apathy, and he just got done with the former so there's no way he’s going to deal with the latter.

He walks over to open the fridge, then just stares into it. Usually, he just waits until something appetizing jumps out at him, but he's honestly not really in the mood for anything. He glances to the freezer…and opens it to pull out a tub of cookie dough.  _ What May doesn't know won't hurt her, or me. _ He plops on the couch and digs his spoon into the cookie dough.  _ Should I unmute my friends? I should probably unmute my friends. If anything, just to convince them that I'm not dead. Ned tends to overreact. _ He pulls out his phone and takes it off “do not disturb.” His phone is instantly overwhelmed by text after text after text from Ned and MJ, more so Ned, and a few missed calls from both. Most of the texts are in their group chat, which Peter quickly catches up with.

****

**_Our Dysfunctional Family_ **

**_12:45 pm_ **

Ned:  _ hey peter where are you? _

Ned:  _ did something happen? class started five minutes ago _

Ned:  _ you really need to be here for economics _

Ned:  _ im getting worried man _

MJ:  _ Stop worrying so much. If you don't pay attention, you’ll fail the exam. Stop making my phone buzz. _

Ned:  _ worrying is practically my job! its what i do! _

Ned:  _ and how come you always text with perfect grammar and punctuation _

MJ:  _ Because I hold myself to a higher standard than you two. _

Ned:  _ …okay fair enough _

Ned:  _ but youre not worried about peter at all?? _

MJ:  _ No. _

MJ:  _ He can handle himself just fine, he isn't too much of a moron. If he needs us he’ll text. _

Ned:  _ if you say so _

**_1:58 pm_ **

Ned:  _ are you worried yet mj _

Ned:  _ cause im worried _

Ned:  _ and im THIS close to freaking out _

MJ:  _ … _

MJ:  _ It’s uncharacteristic for him to miss multiple classes in a row without letting us know why. _

Ned:  _ FINALLU I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WORRIED _

MJ: _ *Finally _

MJ:  _ Have you tried calling him? _

Ned:  _ y e s _

Ned:  _ and he ALWAYS answers if hes not spider-manning _

MJ:  _ Well then what if he's out being Spiderman? _

Ned:  _ *spider-man _

Ned:  _ respect the hyphen _

MJ:  _ Then respect punctuation. _

Ned:  _ nows not the time! _

MJ:  _ If we don't hear from him by the time school is over, you can call May. If she doesn't know where he is and it starts to get dark, call Tony Stark. He’s basically Peter’s babysitter, right? _

Ned:  _ peters not a baby and iron man isn't a babysitter!!!! _

Ned:  _ but that sounds like a good plan. _

**_3:47 pm_ **

MJ:  _ Did you call her? _

Ned:  _ yeah but she didnt know where peter is either _

Ned:  _ she was pretty freaked out too _

Ned:  _ she said shes gonna call him _

MJ:  _ I'm sure he’ll answer for her, otherwise whatever he’s dealing with will be the least of his problems. _

****

Alright, now Peter just has to catch them both up on what's going on, right? He's sure they're going to be very…understanding. _ I just have to give them a good explanation! Yeah…more like good excuse. Okay Peter, just be casual. _

****

**_4:23 pm_ **

Peter: _ hey guys :) _

Ned:  _ OH MY GOD PETER WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN WEVE BEEN SO WORRIED YOU SCARED US TO DEATH YOU JUST DISAPPEARED AND DIDNT COME TO CLASS WE THOUGHT YOU WERE KIDNAPPED OR SOMETHING YOU CANT SCARE US LIKE THAT YOURE LIKE SO GROUNDED IF MAY HASNT ALREADY GROUNDED YOU I CANT BELIEVE YOU JUST LEFT YOU OWE US BIG TIME _

MJ:  _ Sup nerd, welcome back. _

Peter:  _ hey. i know i kinda bailed on you guys and im sorry. it wasn't exactly planned tbh _

Ned:  _ WE NEED EXPLANATIONS LIKE RN _

Ned:  _ DID SOMETHING HAPPEN WITH SPIDER-MAN???? _

Ned:  _ WAS IT MYSTERIO????? _

Peter:  _ not exactly _

MJ:  _ Then what happened? I'm not one to worry, but you were gone a while and weren't answering anyone. _

Ned:  _ YEAH _

Peter:  _ actually i answered may’s call _

Peter:  _ i kinda muted everyone else _

Ned:  _ YOU WHAT?!?!?!?! _

MJ:  _ Why? _

Peter:  _ this is gonna be a long story _

MJ:  _ We’ve been waiting long enough for it. _

Ned:  _ id disown you if you didnt give us SOME kind of explanation _

Peter:  _ okay okay _

Peter: _ so _

Peter:  _ i was supposed to train with Mr. Stark today after school like usual _

Peter:  _ and i was super psyched cause we were gonna yknow hang out and play cards and i was gonna tell him about the mysterio fight this morning _

Ned:  _ dude you were gonna play cards with iron man???? dude!!! _

MJ:  _ Don't interrupt. Continue, Peter. _

Peter:  _ well he called me back today during lunch and _

Peter:  _ just cancelled out of nowhere _

Peter:  _ like i know he has a company and has to help run it, its just…i dunno _

MJ:  _ It upset you _

Peter:  _ yeah _

Ned:  _ im sorry _

Peter:  _ it’s okay, i get it. it's not your fault man _

Ned:  _ im still sorry _

Ned:  _ im unstanning iron man _

Peter:  _ ha we both know that's not gonna happen _

Ned:  _ i stan spider-man more than i do iron man _

MJ:  _ We all know he’s an egotistical jerk who’s destroying the environment. _

MJ:  _ I only gave him a chance because you did. _

MJ:  _ But now he’s on my shit list. _

Peter:  _ i appreciate it guys, but it's really okay. he didnt do it on purpose _

Peter:  _ i'm gonna destress _

MJ:  _ Good idea. _

Ned:  _ we’ll be here if you need anything okay? _

Ned:  _ just dont mute us again _

Peter:  _ i won't _

Peter:  _ thanks guys _

Ned:  _ <3 _

MJ:  _ No problem dweeb. _

****

Peter locks his phone and sits back with a sigh. Looking down, he realizes he already ate all the cookie dough.  _ Stupid fast metabolism. _ He slowly washed the tub and leaves it out to dry, so that when May gets home she doesn't have to do dishes. He knows he needs to distract himself. He has an economics exam to study for, which he has barely studied for at all, so he decides that's what he's going to do.

When he tries to start studying out of the textbook, things just don't…click. And it’s frustrating. God, is it frustrating. He swears he rereads the same paragraph five times before throwing the entire textbook across his room. Luckily, he doesn't do any damage to the wall. He grips his hair in his hands and takes a few deep breaths. No matter what he does, he can't stop thinking about what happened with Tony and it’s giving him anxiety. He can't concentrate.

He spends the next six hours trying to retain absolutely anything his brain will allow before sleep deprivation sets in and he’s forced to go to bed. Even though he goes to bed around 11 pm, which is early for him, he wakes up exhausted with a headache.  _ Today’s gonna suck. And it's  _ Friday _. Fridays are supposed to be the best days!  _ May still hasn't come home yet, which means she’s probably working overtime at the ER. Peter takes a few pills for the headache and takes breakfast with him on the go, noticing he’s a bit behind schedule. The only thing he's in the mood for is Doritos, and his conscience isn't awake enough yet to argue with the decision.

First period, unfortunately, is economics, which Peter feels extremely unprepared for. When he sits between Ned and MJ, who both give him weird looks before glancing to each other, part of him just wants to look to the person in front of him. To cheat. To glance off their paper and copy down the answers. He  _ really _ need to pass this exam…but he doesn't cheat.  _ Superheroes don't cheat. Mr. Stark would be even more disappointed in me. _ Instead, he answers the questions as best he can and just guesstimates on the rest.

“C’mon dude, I'm sure you didn't do that bad,” Ned tries to reassure once the class is over. Peter simply shrugs his shoulders.

“You’re doing it again,” MJ cuts in. When Peter looks up, she's giving him a disapproving look.

“Doing what?”

“That grumpy thing you did before Tony Stark picked you up last Friday.” She raises a questioning eyebrow. “Not that I saw that happen,” she adds.

“I’m not grumpy. I'm just tired.” Peter takes out some notebooks before closing his locker.

“That was your excuse last time,” Ned reminds.

“Well maybe ‘cause it’s true,” Peter mutters through clenched teeth.

“We’re just worried, man,” Ned practically pleads. Peter’s frustration wavers slightly. He's not trying to be impatient, he just doesn't like being pitied or treated like he's fragile.

“I know. I'm just…tense. I'm fine. Promise.” He gives them a tight-lipped smile and pulls his backpack higher onto his shoulder.

“Look who decided to show up!” Peter’s muscles tense at the voice.

“But I'm about to  _ not  _ be fine,” he mumbles.

“Surprised you even came to school today, Penis.” Flash walks up to them while smirking at Peter.

“If you're as smart as you keep telling everyone you are, you’d have enough sense of self preservation to walk away,” MJ threatens nonchalantly.

“What, now you have other people fighting your battles? Are you that much of a  _ coward? _ You gonna hide behind your misfit friends?” Flash challenges. Peter’s anger flares and his eyes snap up to meet the bully’s.

“I'm not in the mood, Flash,” Peter warns, his voice dangerously low. Flash falters at Peter’s uncharacteristic tone, but quickly regains his composure. Ned steps forward, but Peter doesn't let him get any closer to Flash.

“I don't care. You think you’re that much better than the rest of us. No one cares about your dumb imaginary internship. Tony Stark wouldn't waste his time on you.” Usually, Peter doesn't engage with his insults, but something inside him snaps and he's talking back before he can stop himself.

“Says the one who constantly overcompensates by putting other people down. Everyone’s sick of you being a jerk all the time. The only person I  _ know _ I'm better than is  _ you. _ So have some self control for once and layoff.” Peter knows he shouldn't have said it, but man did it feel good to defend himself. His Spidey Sense makes itself known with a light tingle over his shoulders.  _ Guess I should've seen this coming.  _ He knows he can't react without giving his powers away, so he stands still and takes on the full force of Flash’s ruthless fist making contact with his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Don't forget, Endgame fix-it fic Bittersweet will be up sometime tomorrow <3
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	20. Here He Comes to Save the Day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all you amazing people! I just wanted to thank you all for the support. Whether it be through kudos or comments or reading the story in general, I really do appreciate every single one of you <3
> 
> Mild TW for blood!! It's a fuuuun chapter today and I'm pretty sure some of you have an inkling as to what might happen ;)
> 
> Have fun reading and stay safe!

A mild pain spreads throughout Peter’s cheek. It doesn't hurt much, if at all, but he recoils as if it does. He's not going to blow his secret identity over a weak punch from a bully. He lets himself be pushed into the lockers by the force of the punch. The locker door clangs from his impact and MJ is instantly in front of him, blocking Flash’s path to him.

“Back off,” she warns. Ned steadies Peter’s shoulders and checks his cheek.

“Are you okay?” Ned asks worriedly. Peter nods, his expression unwavering as he regains his balance.

“He can't even fight ba-” Flash is cut off by MJ’s fist. Ned and Peter stare in shock as Flash stumbles back. By then, a group of students have crowded around them to watch the scene unfold. Flash’s eyes widen when he realizes what just happened. MJ, however, crosses her arms with an intense stare trained on Flash. Before Flash can react, a voice interrupts the tension.

“Peter, Michelle, Eugene, my office.” Principal Morita’s hard gaze lands on them expectantly. The crowd disperses with a few disappointed mumbles and Peter straightens up. Flash stomps after Principal Morita, already yelling about what just went down.

“Did you see her punch me?!” Flash demands, pointing accusingly back at MJ.

“I did. I also saw you punch Peter, first. Office. Now.” Mr. Morita maintains his calm demeanor and Flash stomps his way around the corner with an exasperated huff. Then, Mr. Morita looks back to the rest of them. “Ned, can you please get ice packs for Peter and Eugene. Michelle, Peter, follow me.” Peter glances to MJ, but she starts to follow Mr. Morita as if she didn't do anything wrong. In Peter’s opinion, she didn't. Still, he follows behind the two while Ned goes to get the ice packs. Peter, MJ, and Eugene sit outside Principal Morita’s office while he makes calls to their emergency contacts. _May’s going to kill me._ Flash looks like he's about to talk when Peter interrupts him before he can start,

“Don't.” Flash scoffs and turns to him.

“Like you can tell me what to do.”

“Don't,” MJ repeats. Flash immediately shuts his mouth. Peter resists the urge to laugh in his face, which is currently in the process of bruising from MJ’s punch. Peter doubts his cheek is even red. Principal Morita comes out of his a few minutes later.

“Michelle, Eugene, both your parents are on your way,” he informs.

“Stop calling me that,” Flash mutters under his breath.

“Peter,” Principal Morita continues, “your aunt said she's currently at work. She asked you to call someone named ‘Happy?’” Peter’s heart drops. Still, he counts his blessings that she didn't ask him to call Tony.

“Oh, um, okay.” Peter nods and Mr. Morita retreats into his office again. Ned arrives with two ice packs, one he hands to Peter and one he begrudgingly throws to Flash. Peter holds his up to my cheek just for show. Slowly, he pulls out his phone and dials Happy. It rings…and rings…and rings… He starts to think of anyone else he can call when Happy picks up just in the nick of time.

“What's up? I'm kind of busy.” Happy seems like he's already in a bad mood, which makes Peter’s anxiety spike.

“Um, hi, Happy. Could you, uh, pick me up? From school? I know that, that you're preoccupied but May’s at work and, and I don't really have anyone else to come get me.” There's silence.

“It's 9:32, why do you need picked up?” Happy asks skeptically.

“Well, funny story. I, uh, got in a fight?” Peter says, but it comes out as more of a question.

“Is that a question?”

“Yes?”

“That's…uncharacteristic. You okay?” Happy doesn't seem very convinced. In his defense, Peter probably isn't being very convincing.

“Yeah, yeah I'm okay. Could you just come get me, please?” Peter whispers to keep Flash from hearing his plea.

“Hang tight.” With that, Happy hangs up. MJ’s parents arrive and Principal Morita allows her to leave with a first warning. Flash and Peter, on the other hand, stay behind. Ned had to go back to class, leaving the two of them alone with matching ice packs and an empty chair between them. It takes Happy another ten minutes to arrive, probably due to lunchtime traffic, but someone…unexpected walks through the doors instead. Designer glasses and all, Tony walks into the school. His posture is stiff and he straightens out his suit cuffs. Peter almost drops his ice pack in surprise when he sees the man. Tony's eyes land on Peter before looking to the ice pack, then to Flash. _He's the one who somehow managed to get Peter, the nicest kid I've ever met, to fight him,_ Tony's mind practically screams at him. Flash looks like he's about to faint out of pure shock, opening his mouth but no words coming out. Once Tony's eyes locks onto Flash, he starts approaching him with a frightening determination. Peter jumps up from his seat, dropping his ice pack in the process, and rushes to block his mentor’s path.

“No no no no no!” He pushes on Tony’s chest when the man tries to get past him. Tony’s jaw is set and his face is firm with a mix of anger and internal struggle.

“You're right, you're right,” he backs off but keeps his hard eyes on Flash, “it's morally wrong to beat up a kid,” he mutters.

“Uh, yeah. If that's what convinces you, then yeah.” Peter quickly nods.

“Touch my kid again and I'll make your life a living hell. Got it?” Tony manages to keep his composure, but puts every ounce of venom into his words that he can. Peter tries to calm himself at the words. _My kid, my kid, my kid, m-_

“Yes sir,” Flash squeaks. Tony turns his attention back to Peter. He tilts the kid’s chin to get a better look at his cheek. _Someone punched him and you weren't there._

“You alright?” he questions, inspecting Peter’s face.

“Yep. Peachy,” Peter answers sarcastically, but nods and avoids eye contact.

“Where’s your principal?”

“In his office?” _Where else would he be?_ Peter wonders. Tony then marches straight into the office. Not wanting to stay alone with Flash, Peter quickly follows him.

“Oh, I wasn't expecting to see you here, Mr. Stark.” Principal Morita’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn't show much else.

“Wasn't expecting to _be_ here. So, what kind of punishment are we talking? Suspension? Expulsion?” Tony inquires with a touch of heat.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter shouts in disbelief. Tony looks back to him and shrugs his shoulders as if he hasn't just suggested to ruin a kid’s academic career.

“Proper repercussions are being enforced, I assure you. This isn't Eugene’s first offense, though it is his first time getting physical. Mostly likely a suspension for the rest of the week,” Mr. Morita informs simply.

“Not long enough, if you ask me.” Tony’s voice is tense. Peter quickly grabs onto his blazer sleeve until Tony looks down at him. Peter deliberately takes a slow, deep breath and stares at him with pleading eyes. Tony’s face softens ever so slightly, but remains stoic. He slowly turns back to Mr. Morita. “Thank you,” he says slowly. He pats Peter’s back and ushers them out the door. Peter keeps his head down as they leave out the front doors and walks to the car. Instantly, Peter notices that Happy isn't even in the car.

“Where's Happy?” he asks as they get in the car.

“I drove,” Tony murmurs. _Oh._ Peter sets the ice pack down, since he doesn't actually need it, and watches as Tony starts to drive. Tony is visibly more relaxed, but his knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel. Peter is about to break the silence when Tony runs the stop sign before leaving campus. Then, he immediately runs a yellow light that turns red while they’re halfway through the intersection.

“That's a neat collection of traffic laws you just violated.” Peter laughs nervously as he grips the leather seats. Tony glances at Peter before slowing down slightly.

“What the hell happened?” Tony questions, more confused than angry. Now that things have calmed down a bit, Peter’s anxiety rears its ugly head again. _He only came because he has to. You bothered him. He said he had a busy day. You ruined it. He had more important things to do than to be deal with some superhero wannabe kid who can't even stand up for himself._ “Earth to kid. Care to answer today?”

“Oh, um… Well, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Flash is a jerk and I just didn't wanna deal with it today. Flash…didn't like that so he punched me. MJ punched him back,” Peter explains simply.

“Hold on, _today?_ As in, this has happened _before_ today?" Tony practically demands.

“Um, well, y’see, it’s, it’s really nothing to worry about. I can, I can handle it. Usually. Today was just an…off day.” Peter tries to keep his voice even. _It still hurts._

“I would certainly say so.” Peter’s heart skips a beat. _Does he know I'm upset about yesterday?_ “You’ve caught an assassin’s metal fist, but can't dodge a high schooler’s wimpy punch?” Peter lets out a shaky breath. _I should've known that he wouldn't notice._ “Looks like we need to work more on those reflexes of yours. Thought that _Spidey Sense_ warns you about danger and a punch seems pretty damn d-”

“It did warn me,” Peter interrupts, not looking at Tony’s face. _He's going to be disappointed in me._ Tony stays silent at first, seemingly confused, but then it clicks.

“You let him hit you,” he says slowly. Peter nods, keeping his head down. Tony sighs. “Why'd you let him hit you?”

“Cause, y’know…I'm Spider-Man. I'm supposed to be the better person.” Peter tries to put some confidence into his voice, because he's honestly happy with his decision. Unfortunately, it comes out shaky. Silence ensues. The rest of the drive is silent until the car comes to a stop in the Tower’s garage.

“You did the right thing.” Tony doesn't look at Peter as he says it, then promptly gets out. Peter is left in the car, shocked at the approval that just came out of his mentor’s mouth. He should feel excited, accomplished, proud. But he doesn't. He feels confused. _How can he say that when less than twenty-four hours ago I was having a meltdown because I thought he didn't care? Does he?_ A knock on Peter’s window startles him out of his thoughts. “Some time today would be nice, Underoos.” Tony motions for Peter to hurry up.

“Right. Sorry.” Peter swiftly gets out of the car and follows Tony as he walks to the elevator. “Um, why didn't you drop me off at the apartment? May is gonna be home soon and it's not like I'm too young to stay home alone,” Peter rambles as they get in the elevator and start to go up.

“I'm aware of that. Forgive me for not feeling comfortable about a kid being alone after getting punched,” Tony answers sarcastically before walking out of the elevator into the penthouse. “Hungry, kid? Did you eat breakfast?” He walks to the fridge and Peter waits patiently on the couch.

“Do Doritos count as breakfast?” Peter laughs nervously.

“Nope,” Tony declines, popping the “p.”

“Then…no.” Tony turns around to give him a look of disapproval. “But! But, I had-” _lunch,_ Peter is about to say. Then he remembers that he, in fact, did not have lunch yet. He only got through first period. It's barely 9:30 in the morning. “It’s technically still morning?” he rebuttals halfheartedly.

“You're damn right it is,” Tony borderline scolds before tossing Peter a wrapped up sandwich. Peter catches it with ease and starts unwrapping it. “Keep doing this and I'll make Helen knock some sense into you instead. And then…I dunno, I'll ground you or something.” Tony takes an exasperated breath and rubs his forehead. Peter sighs overdramatically.

“I'll get on top of the fridge.” Peter gets up and walks past him. Somehow, Tony seems speechless before finally managing a breathless,

“Excuse me?” Peter easily starts climbing on the fridge.

“This house is a _nightmare!”_ He perches on the top and looks down at Tony, only to see his eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“What…just happened?” Peter opens his mouth to explain but Tony holds up a hand. “Actually, I don't even wanna know.” Instead, he walks around the bar.

“It's a Vine! How do you not know that Vine?!” Peter questions, utterly flabbergasted. _This will not stand!_

 _“ _Vi_ ne? _What on Earth are you talking about?” Peter’s whole face lights up.

“Oh my gosh, Mr. Stark. You're gonna love them! There's a whole bunch! Well, Vine’s dead so they're all on YouTube now, but still! They're hilarious too!” He gracefully hops down from the fridge and pulls out his phone, ready to bless a fellow human with the knowledge of Vines. It takes him a moment to notice the dark bags under Tony’s eyes behind the orange tinted sunglasses. “Mr. Stark, have you been getting enough sleep?” Tony glances to Peter, then readjusts his sunglasses onto his face.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he counters. _It’s not my fault I couldn't sleep,_ Peter notes.

“Is everything…okay?” Peter asks hesitantly.

“Nothing for you to worry about, kid.” That’s not an answer though.

“Does it have to do with Ms. Potts? I, I can tell her that it wasn't your fault. I don't want you guys to fight.” Tony looks at Peter with hard, conflicted eyes. Peter almost expects him to disagree and say that yes, it was his fault. Peter knows it’s not, though.

“Just let it go, Peter,” Tony sighs. Peter can tell he’s trying to be patient. _I should be quiet, but…_

“You’re obviously tired and you barely sleep enough as it is and I don't want Ms. Potts to be angry and you're stressed, like, all the time. I just, I just wanna help, Mr. Stark.” Tony takes a slow breath.

“There’s nothing _to_ talk about, alright?” He walks around Peter towards the mounted TV.

“But if you can't sleep, you should talk about it.” Peter follows him.

“I'm not discussing this with you,” Tony immediately shuts down.

“You need to talk about it to _someone._ At least Dr. Banner could-”

 _“No,_ _”_ he says with a tone of finality.

“You need to sleep Mr.-”

“I can't!” he raises his voice ever so slightly.

“But maybe if you-”

“I had a nightmare, alright?!” he yells, causing Peter to involuntarily flinch. Tony rakes his hands through his hair as he stares intently down at his shoes. “I…had a nightmare,” he repeats in a softer voice. _Good job, you upset him. You shouldn't have pushed it,_ Peter scolds himself. Tony sits down on the couch.

“Um, I- we could…” _C’mon, Peter, use your words._ “Do you want to talk about it?” he offers. Tony has his head in his hands, but slightly looks up at Peter. The exhaustion that’s so obviously evident on his face looks almost painful. Peter waits patiently as the room takes on a familiar silence.

“It was-” Tony’s phone rings, cutting him off. He abruptly stands, taking the phone in his hand, and leaves the room saying, “This is Stark.” As soon as he leaves, Peter rips his phone out of his pocket and starts to frantically text Ned as he sits on the couch.

****

**_Guy in the Chair_ **

Peter: _omfg ned mr starj is freakngw out and i have no idea wgat to do!!!_

Peter: _he looks exausted and he's super irritatd with me cause i keep trying toask him ehats wrong but hw wouldn't talj abot ut_

Peter: _then ge finallt said that he had a nightmare and I hkbestly had no idea wgat to d o??? like how am i supposedto help him????_

Ned: _woah dude calm down_

Ned: _deep breaths_

Ned: _and slow down i can barely understand you thru your typos_

Peter: _okay sorry im just freaking out_

Peter: _i dont know what to do without pissing him off yknow_

Ned: _yeah i get it_

Ned: _try to get him do the talking_

Ned: _like dont ask him too much_

Ned: _just enough to let him know that youre willing to listen n stuff_

Peter: _i can do that_

Peter: _thanks ned i really appreciate it_

Ned: _anytime dude_

Ned: _you gonna be okay?_

****

Tony’s angry voice tears Peter’s attention away from his phone.

“I told you I don't know! What else do you want from me?! Even if I _did_ know where they are, I wouldn't rat them out to an asshat like you!” It doesn't take Peter’s enhanced hearing to figure out how mad Tony is. _Give up who? Is he talking about…the Accords? And the rogue Avengers?_ Tony walks back into the room with his hair even more messed up than before, his sunglasses off, and his jaw clenched. He's _beyond_ pissed.

“Is, is everything okay?” Peter stutters nervously.

“Yes.” Tony walks past the sofa and straight into the kitchen.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Peter hesitantly asks, barely above a whisper.

“No,” Tony breathes through clenched teeth. Peter tries to calm himself. _Deep breaths, just like Ned said. Don't push him too hard. Just let him know you're there for him._

“Hey, I'm, uh, I'm here for you. I'm a good listener too, so if you w-”

“Can't you just keep your mouth shut for two seconds?!” Tony screams. Peter freezes. The remainder of his words get caught in his throat. His heart picks up and a knot forms in the pit of his stomach. _You did something wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong-_ He keeps his eyes trained straight ahead and tightly presses his lips together. It feels like he was just sucker punched in the gut. “Pete, I'm-” Tony starts in a much softer tone, but Peter doesn't let him finish. He can't.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll get out of your hair. Sorry. See you later, Mr. Stark.” Peter pulls his backpack over his shoulder and gets out of the penthouse as fast as he can. He decides to take the stairs. He doesn't want to take the elevators since he knows F.R.I.D.A.Y. would be able to talk to him and Tony would be able to see him. Instead, he considers using his web-shooters to swing out of the Tower and over to Ned’s house. Sometimes he misses the burning sensation in his lungs that he used to get when he ran. His endurance is too high from the spider bite now. The footsteps echo in the empty stairwell as he runs down flight after flight. _Why do I keep coming back when he treats me like this? All I do is upset him._ After about twenty or so flights, he slows down enough to pull out his phone and check the new texts.

****

**_Guy in the Chair_ **

Ned: _peter?_

Ned: _????_

Ned: _you didnt answer me_

Ned: _are you okay???_

Peter: _can you look into anything relating to Mr. Stark being idk traumatized_

Peter: _like what happened in afghanistan_

Peter: _and the sokovia accords_

Ned: _of course i can_

Ned: _im your Guy in the Chair™_

Peter: _without getting arrested_

Ned: _less easy but still doable_

Ned: _why? and you never answered if youre okay_

Peter: _he’s been acting weird lately_

Peter: _like super on edge_

Peter: _and someone's giving him a hard time and accusing him of harboring the rogue avengers_

Ned: _dude thatd be badass_

Peter: _also illegal_

Peter: _i just wanna know whats going on and i know Mr. Stark wont tell me_

Ned: _maybe cause you arent supposed to know_

Peter: _technicalities_

Peter: _so can you do it?_

Ned: _ugh_

Ned: _yeah i can do it_

Ned: _on one condition_

Peter: _im going to regret this arent i_

Ned: _you have to come with me to betty’s house party_

Peter: _you have to be joking_

Peter: _do i need to remind you what happened when we tried to go to liz’s party????_

Peter: _I GOT DROPPED OUT OF THE SKY NED_

Ned: _i know i know but she’s really upset about liz being gone and she was lonely_

Ned: _and she came up to me like super sad asking if we wanted to come_

Peter: _please tell me you didnt_

Ned: _…i told her we would come_

Peter: _you know how much i dont like parties!!!_

Ned: _do you want to wear my hat of confidence?_

Peter: _no ned_

Peter: _what i want is to not go_

Ned: _pleeeeaaaaase_

Peter: _ugh_

Peter: _youre lucky youre my best friend_

Peter: _cause youre a pain in the ass_

Peter: _but you still have to look into the accords_

Peter: _i’ll be over at your place in a few minutes_

Ned: _JWNXOENDOEH THANK YOU SO MUCH PETER YOURE THE BEST_

Ned: _I’LL START LOOKING_

Peter: _im definitely going to regret this_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> Quick question: I've noticed that people seem to like the way I write texting between the characters, would any of you be interested in a oneshot/mini series of texts between the characters? Let me know!
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	21. (Anti)Social Butterfly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Weekend everyone! I hope you're all on summer break! And for those of us that still have finals to get thru,,,good luck to us all. Today we find out some interesting things and hopefully both our heroes come to their senses.
> 
> Also, thanks to all of you who have shown interest in a series of texting! I had no idea people would like the texting excerpts so much, but fear not! I have something that I'm working on ;) I love all of your support!
> 
> TW with story spoils so be careful//Alcohol & alcohol intolerance!

“What do you have so far?” Peter asks Ned as he carefully climbs through the bedroom window. Ned is sitting at his desk typing rapidly on his keyboard with precise movements.

“Well the first thing that came up was what happened to him in Afghanistan,” he answers, getting straight down to business. “It’s the kinda stuff we already know: Tony Stark was doing a weapons demonstration, got blown up, had to get an electromagnet to keep the shrapnel from getting to his heart, was tortured for three months, then broke out after building the Mark I.” It’d be surprising if anyone _hadn’t_ heard that story. No one knows the exact details, but everyone knows Iron Man’s origin story. Of course, Peter knows the incident is most likely where the majority of Tony’s PTSD first came from. “But,” Ned continues, “I did find something about his dad, Howard Stark, being…not the nicest person. There’s barely anything about it, but what's here isn’t very encouraging.” He drags a tab onto the screen. It's a short article containing a quote from Tony about his father.

****

**“'My father was absent from most of my childhood. When I did see him, he was a cold, calculating asshole. When we talked, it was always yelling and arguments. Hard to miss someone like that.' -Tony Stark"**

****

Tony didn't have a great support system to begin with and then he lost his parents when he was young. Peter can…empathize with that, but he was lucky to have parents he knows cared about him. Tony, on the other hand, had a father who barely talked to him. Maybe…that's why he's afraid of getting emotionally attached to anyone?

“Next trauma inducing event was when he was in Afghanistan and his car got blown up. The shrapnel almost killed him and the only reason he lived is because those jerks tried to make him build a weapon or something. But…” Ned pauses, only making Peter more anxious.

“But?” Peter urges. Instead of answering, Ned simply tilts his computer screen towards Peter for him to read.

****

**“Tony Stark, CEO of Stark International, has been rescued after he went missing three months ago prior to his trip to Afghanistan. Pictures have been taken of Stark exiting an Air Force jet, with a sling on his arm, while being guided by his close friend Colonel James Rhodes. He had apparently refused a stretcher from paramedics on standby. An official statement has been made by the billionaire himself in a press conference, only mere hours following his return:**

**‘I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them. And I saw that I had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero-accountability.’**

**At the time, Stark had the press sitting down, but they all stood when Stark made a shocking announcement:**

**‘I had my eyes opened. I came to realize that I have more offer this world than just making things that blow up. And that is why, effective immediately, I'm shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark International. Until such a time, as I can decide what the future of this company will be, what direction it should take, the one that I'm comfortable with and is consistent with the highest good for this country and the world.’**

**Obadiah Stane, Stark’s longtime business partner and family friend, then chose to take over the press conference in Stark’s place.”**

****

What happened in Afghanistan completely made Tony do a one-eighty with his company. Peter kind of knew what happened, but the details were never released, not that he'd ever want to release the details of him being tortured for three months either. He shivers at the thought of releasing the details of what happened Homecoming night.

“Yeah…and we all kinda know what happened next,” Ned says regrettably. Peter slowly nods.

“Obadiah tried to kill Mr. Stark because of it,” he mutters. _Okay, that's probably where Mr. Stark got the other half of his trust issues._ Ned takes a deep breath before switching tabs.

“Then we have what happened with the Chitauri alien stuff about nine years ago.” A shaky video of the Iron Man suit starts playing. Tony has some sort of missile or nuke in the strong grip of his suit. If Peter had blinked, he would've missed Tony suddenly disappearing into thin air. “He flew a nuke into an alien portal.” Peter shakes head in shock.

“I knew they beat up all the aliens and went through hell to save everyone…but this? This is insane…” A few moments later, Tony reappears. He limply falls through the sky until the Hulk catches him midair and takes him to the ground. The video ends there. _Definitely trauma and PTSD inducing._

“The next thing took a bit more digging to find, but it definitely fits your requirement of ‘traumatizing.’” Ned clicks on another video, even shakier than the last, and Peter waits for the scene to unfold. The phone camera is trained on someone, presumably Tony, rushing through a crowd outside of some sort of restaurant. Peter’s thoughts are confirmed when the Tony quickly lets the Iron Man suit envelop him. Surprisingly, he drops to one knee and his fist rests on the asphalt beneath him for support. _What’s happening?_ It's hard to hear over the chattering crowd, but Peter can make out bits and pieces of Tony's mechanical voice; “check…heart…the brain…poison…severe anxiety… _me?”_ Rhodey walks up to him and knocks on the outside of the suit before Tony flies off.

“Did he just…” Peter can't even finish his thought.

“Yeah. Anxiety attack.” _That's…that's how Mr. Stark knew how to help me with my anxiety attack. He’s had them. Not only that, but the torture in Afghanistan and the Chitauri battle is probably why he didn't want anything to do with blood when Dr. Banner started talking about blood tests. It's starting to make sense._ “That’s all I got in the trauma department, but I do have information about the Sokovia Accords. There's not much info that I could get to _legally,_ but I was able to do a bit of…investigating.” Peter raises an eyebrow.

“What _kind_ of investigating? On a scale of Scooby-Doo to Sherlock Holmes?”

“At least Nancy Drew levels of sleuthing,” Ned admits with a sly smile. Peter chuckles and shakes his head. _One of these days, the FBI is going to bust down our door._ “The dude who proposed the Accords in the first place was the U.S. Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross. I swear, I got _chills_ when I read his name. I mean, that's totally a villain name!” Ned squeaks.

“Focus, Ned.”

“Right. Well, Ross is a retired Lieutenant General and, like I said, the current U.S. Secretary. He’s not a nice guy, like, at all. I have no idea how he got elected.” He clicks on a picture on his desktop and it expands to show a picture of a grumpy, older man with silver hair. “The Sokovia Accords are, and I quote, ‘a framework for the registration and deployment of enhanced individuals.’” Peter sighs, the pieces clicking together.

“Which especially includes the Avengers and people like me,” he grumbles. Secretary Ross wanted to put the Avengers on a leash and Captain America pushed back. “But that means Mr. Stark…agreed with Secretary Ross? I mean, I know that’s why I went to Germany. Mr. Stark said Captain America thought he was doing the right thing, but wasn't. I had no idea it was something like this…” Peter obviously doesn't know a lot about the Accords, but he does know that he wouldn't want the government telling him when Spider-Man could save someone's life or not. The sudden thoughts startle him. _Am I a part of the Accords? Is Spider-Man?_

“It's okay, man. You had no way of knowing.” Ned looks up at him with genuine eyes and Peter smiles. Still, there's an unsettling feeling in the pit of Peter’s stomach. _If this Secretary Ross guy is pushing Mr. Stark, is something going to happen to him? Is that why Mr. Stark has been so anxious and…overprotective lately?_ Even if that's the case, it still makes him sick to his stomach the way Tony snapped at him. With the way the man has been stressed lately though, he can't exactly blame him. Especially if Secretary Ross has been on his case. Ned's desk starts vibrating and Peter looks over to the lit up phone. “Crap, we’re gonna be late for Betty’s party! C'mon, we gotta go!” Ned flies out of his chair and practically leaps into his closet to find something to wear.

“You said it's gonna be a cas _ual_ party. What's wrong with what we're already wearing?” Peter chuckles as Ned hurls a hat at him, which he easily catches.

“We have to make a good impression! But we can't stand out either. We don't want a repeat of last time.” Peter internally winces.

“Oh, you mean having an entire crowd of people chanting ‘Penis Parker?’ I don't know what you mean! That was a blast!” he replies sarcastically with fake enthusiasm.

“That's what the hat is for, dude! Hat of confidence!” Ned defends while continuing to dig through his clothes. The hat he threw to Peter is a black, velvet top hat with a small red feather tucked into it.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me.” Peter turns the hat around in his hands to get a better look at it. Ned pops his head out from the closet, revealing his own famous, confidence-providing fedora.

“We don't joke about hats in this house,” he says, deadpan. They both stare at each other. One beat of silence. Two beats of silence. Then they both can't hold back their laughter and all but die cracking up. Ned goes back to searching for an outfit and Peter pulls out his phone.

“Did you ask MJ if she wants to come?”

“I didn't get that far yet.” Ned's voice coming from the closet is muffled. Peter shakes his head and pulls up MJ’s number.

****

**_MJ_**

Peter: _hey MJ! ned and i are going to betty’s party and we wanted to know if you wanna come too?_

MJ: _Why?_

Peter: _um_

Peter: _because it would be fun?_

Peter: _and we wanna include you?_

MJ: _I don't do parties._

Peter: _you went to liz’s party_

MJ: _Did I though?_

Peter: _…_

Peter: _yes?_

MJ: _I might come._

MJ: _To make sure you losers don't embarrass yourselves._

Peter: _thank you?_

Peter: _we’ll see you there!!_

****

“MJ’s coming too,” Peter announces as Ned gets out of his closet with an armful of clothing options. “You said we need to hurry, but you're the one who’s gonna make us late.” Peter laughs as Ned rolls his eyes.

“I’ll take, like, five minutes tops and then my mom can drive us.” With that, he rushes into the bathroom to change. Peter decides to text May that he's going to a party with Ned, which he's pretty she is okay with since she’s still at work. She should be off by the time the party's over and able to pick him up. Ned is true to his word and gets dressed pretty quickly. Then, Mrs. Leeds drives them to Betty's house.

“Alright boys, have fun! And don't take any sketchy…substances from anyone, okay? Make good life choices! Love you both!” Mrs. Leeds tells them as they get out of the car.

“Love you too, Mama.” Ned slightly waves to her.

“Thank you for the ride, Mrs. Leeds,” Peter politely thanks her, but she shakes her head with a smile.

“For heaven’s sake, Peter, call me by my first name. I've only known you since you were in diapers,” she teases. Peter mirrors her smile and nods.

“Sorry, Paola.” She gives them a wave before driving off, leaving Peter and Ned to brave the party alone.

“Have I mentioned how much I don't want to do this? And how antisocial I am? ‘Cause this sucks. I don't know about this, Ned,” Peter mumbles when Ned starts walking towards the front door with music blaring through it.

“What do you mean?” Ned narrows his eyes in confusion before adjusting his hat.

“I mean that, that what if Flash is here? Or, or something happens while Spider-Man’s just goofing off? Like, what if Mysterio attacks and people get hurt because I was at a stupid party?” _That would be on me._

“Peter,” Ned puts his hands on Peter’s shoulders, “everything's gonna be okay. Spider-Man can take one night off. Karen can tell you if anything happens. You have the mask, right?” Peter nods shakily, biting the inside of his cheek. He has the suit on underneath his clothes and the mask tucked away in his back pocket. “If worst comes to worst, you're not the only superhero in New York. Iron Man is, like, fifteen minutes away at most.” Peter nods again, trying to convince himself of what Ned is saying.

“Okay…okay, you're right. Yeah.” Peter adjusts the hat on his head, hoping that he'll just disappear into it. They walk towards the house.

The sounds are already too loud when they enter the pristine, overly large house. It's not too loud, but it's enough to annoy Peter. The house is dimmed so that multicolored lasers can be easily seen as they move across the walls. _No problem. Just stay calm and you won't give your senses a reason to wig out._

“Ned! Peter! Over here!” Ned and Peter turn to see Betty in a blouse and skirt, waving them over. The boys glance at each other before walking to Betty and one of her apparently many friends. Peter puts on the best smile he can muster. “Thank you two so much for coming! I was worried you wouldn't show up when Michelle got here before you guys.” Betty laughs nervously as she adjusts the navy blue headband on her head.

“MJ’s already here?” Peter questions, tilting his head slightly. _How’d she get here so fast?_

“Yeah! She was one of the first people to show up, actually. I haven't seen her in a while though. We can look for her if you guys want?” Betty offers sweetly. _Don't be awkward, Peter, be…nice? Yeah! Be nice, don't overthink it. Mr. Stark said to not overthink. Overthinking is bad. Does this count as overthinking? Maybe I can-_

“We probably should,” Ned speaks up after Peter remains silent. _Shit, stop thinking! Just be helpful or something!_

“Yeah!” Peter blurts out, then quickly clears his throat. “Yeah, you do that and I'll, uh, get us some drinks!” He gives them a tight-lipped smile and shoves his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting.

“Sounds good! We’ll be right back once we find Michelle,” Betty assures.

“Root beer, please!” Ned calls as he and Betty start to navigate their way through the mass of people. Peter takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and walks toward the kitchen. There's an older guy, probably a senior, who’s handing out drinks from a cooler behind the countertop. _What does Betty want to drink? Water is a safe way to go, right? Maybe lemonade? Do they have that?_

“Um, hey,” Peter greets awkwardly. The guy looks up with a half, lazy smile.

“Hey, man. Whatcha feel like?” the guy asks as he opens the cooler. He pulls out a few cans of different soda brands.

“A root beer, two waters, and a coke for me, please.” The guy nods and starts pouring the sodas into their respective glasses. Peter holds the water bottles under his arm and waits patiently. His leg bounces nervously as he looks around to avoid any unnecessary eye contact. He hates being awkward. When the guy finishes, he hands Peter the root beer, but hesitates handing him the coke. Peter narrows his eyes slightly in confusion.

“Unless you want something a bit more…” the guy pulls out a glass bottle, “potent. You look like you need to loosen up a bit, pal.” Peter’s muscles tense. _Alcohol?!_ He frantically shakes his head.

“No, no it’s fine. No thanks. Not, not my thing. Nope,” he laughs nervously and goes to reach for his glass when his phone buzzes. “One second.” He fishes out his phone and visibly relaxes when he sees that it’s Ned. Peter faces away from the guy to hide his quick typing.

****

**_Guy in the Chair_**

Ned: _we found MJ! we’re in the living room :)_

Peter: _dude theres alcohol here! beer!_

Ned: _oh jeez_

Ned: _i dont think bettys the one providing it_

Peter: _definitely not_

Peter: _what do i do???_

Ned: _well you dont drink it_

Ned: _can you even get drunk????_

Ned: _either way theres bound to be booze at a high school party_

Ned: _let betty handle it_

****

Peter takes a deep breath, but he’s still a bit unsettled. He debates calling May to let her know what’s going on, but a dull, barely noticeable tingle at the base of his skull manages to catch his attention. _Danger? Here? No, not immediate danger. My Spidey Sense isn't loud enough for it to be life threatening. But…_ He immediately turns around, but the guy is holding out the glass of coke with a smile. Peter is apprehensive, but the tingling slowly starts to fade. He gently takes the glass, doubt very evident on his face. _Maybe I’m just on edge._ He takes all the drinks and gets to the living room as fast as he can. Ned and MJ are sitting on a couch while Betty stands in front of them to talk.

“Three orders of drinks,” Peter announces as he hands them out to the three. MJ nods her thanks and Betty smiles.

“Everything go okay?” Ned asks carefully. Peter nods with his lips pressed together in a thin line and sets his drink down on the hardwood table.

“I’m just gonna text May real quick,” he says in one breath before moving to one of the quieter areas of the house, which happens to be an empty hallway.

****

**_#1 Aunt_**

Peter: _hey may, do you have a sec?_

Aunt May: _I always have time for you baby_

Aunt May: _Is everything okay?_

Peter: _theres alcohol at this party_

Peter: _i dont thinK betty knwos tho_

Peter: _i know its just alconol but its making me nervous_

Peter: _i just dont inow what to do_

Aunt May: _It’ll be okay, I promise. Take a second to relax, okay?_

Peter: _yeah. im_ _in a hallway by myself_

Aunt May: _Good job. Ned’s at the party, right?_

Peter: _yeah_

Aunt May: _And Betty’s nice, right?_

Peter: _yeah she is_

Peter: _MJs here too_

Aunt May: _And you trust them?_

Peter: _of course_

Aunt May: _Then they're going to be there for you. You protect this city day and night, let someone help you for a change. If anything happens before my shift ends or you feel too uncomfortable, call Happy and he can pick you up. Okey-dokey?_

Peter: _okie dokie_

Peter: _thanks may_

Aunt May: _Always <3 Love you_

Peter: _love you too_

****

After taking a few breaths to calm his heart rate, Peter slowly makes his way back to the living room and puts on a brave face. MJ looks up when he reappears and raises a curious eyebrow at him. She’s leaning back into the couch with her arms crossed comfortably over her chest.

“You good, Parker?” she inquires. Something about her tone seems to be asking a deeper question, as if she wants to know if something Spider-Man related happened.

“Yep. Not a problem,” Peter instantly reassures her with a forced smile. She keeps her hard eyes on him, but ultimately looks away to continue her conversation with Ned and Betty. Peter picks up his coke and goes to take a sip when the wave of tingling reappears over his neck. He discreetly shifts his eyes around the room, but doesn't see so much as a hint of danger. Before he overreacts, he sits down next to Ned and whispers,

“Police scanner.” Ned gets the gist and quickly pulls out his phone. After a minute of searching, he looks back up at Peter to shake his head. Peter checks his phone too, just in case, but he hasn't gotten an alert either. _Is it possible for my Spidey Sense to go haywire?_ He’s starting to feel like it’s very possible, the sensation still subtly causing goosebumps over his arms. With a huff of frustration, he decides to ignore it and just relax into the couch. He is at a _party_ after all, right? He tries to focus on following the conversation as he takes a drink of his soda. His muscles immediately tense as the liquid seems to burn his throat as he swallows it. _Not soda not soda not soda not soda,_ his senses scream as his Spidey Sense erupts across his shoulders. He chokes trying to stop himself from swallowing it, but the damage is already done. Suddenly, the glass shatters underneath his death grip that he hadn't realized had tightened. All eyes snap towards the broken shards of glass, then to Peter. He can't muster any feelings to care about the stares. All he can focus on is the sudden heat that courses through him.

“Peter, what's wrong?” Ned’s distant voice asks, but Peter’s thoughts are too loud. _I can't stay in here. It's too stuffy and there's too many people and I need to get out. If I don't get out, I won't be able to breathe and then it’ll be like that night and I can't do that again. Everything will close in too fast and I won't be able to get back out._ As soon as Peter is able to force himself to move, he sprints through the crowd and out to the driveway. His breathing picks up, turning into harsh wheezes as he feels his throat closing up. _Am I going into anaphylactic shock or something?! From a bit of alcohol?! Why does my body keep trying to kill me?!_

“Peter!” He recognizes MJ’s voice before her face comes in view. _Why is she crouching? I'm on my knees? My face feels like it's on fire. Spontaneous human combustion might not be that far off._ “Peter, can you hear me?” MJ’s stone cold voice repeats. Peter nods, but everything starts to spin. _Oh crap, I think I'm going to be sick._ He squeezes his eyes shut and wills his stomach to cooperate before he embarrasses himself even more.

“Feel sick,” he's somehow able to croak out. “Face’s on fire.” He'd be surprised if his face weren't already bright red. A cool hand presses itself to his cheek and he almost flinches away out of pure shock of how cold it feels. It's getting harder for him to breathe, but it feels nothing like a panic attack. His lungs don't feel like they're being crushed, it's more like his throat is just making the executive decision to close up. Still, the sensation of not being able to breathe is all too familiar. _Just keep reminding yourself that you're not in the warehouse. Toomes is in jail. You got yourself out, because you're Spider-Man. Spider-Man can do anything. But…but I'm not Spider-Man right now. I'm Peter Parker. And dammit it's hard to breathe._

“Where's your phone?” Ned’s panicked voice makes its way into Peter’s ears. Peter shakily pulls out his phone and holds it out to whoever grabs it first. “Aunt May?” Ned asks, but Peter shakes his head. She's still on shift. “Stark?” Peter wants to shake his head no. _Call Happy,_ he wants to yell. Instead, he finds his head nodding. _No no no, call Happy._ Peter then shakes his head. “Peter, I have to call _someone._ I'm calling him,” Ned insists. Before Peter can argue, Ned dials. Ned puts it on speaker, which Peter is grateful for. He wants to talk, but he can barely focus on getting enough air. Thankfully, Tony answers on the first ring.

“Peter, thank god you called. You have no idea how sor-”

 _“Mr. Stark,”_ Peter manages to gasp out. He knows how desperate he must sound, but he tries not to think about it.

“What’s wrong?” Tony’s voice shifts into something resembling concern, but also gravely serious.

“I-” _Cough._ “I can't-” _Wheeze._ “Breathe.” _You’re not underneath concrete. Toomes isn't trying to kill you. You're not going to die. You're not going to die. You're not going to die._

“Where are you?” Tony keeps his voice stable, but Peter can hear his underlying panic. Peter wants to respond, but he can't. It's too hard to breathe and focus at the same time and he feels lightheaded and everything's spinning and it's all falling apart and it's too hot and-

“We’re on-” Ned starts, but Tony interrupts him.

“I've got your phone tracked. I'm coming to get you, kid. Transfer the call to my suit, F.R.I.D.A.Y..” Peter hears a familiar sound in the background, but it’s hard to place. _I know that sound, don't I? It's…mechanical? Like an engine? But, not an engine. Engine engine engine…_ His attention shifts to the sudden pressure on his face and he opens his eyes to see cement. _No, please no. It’s not real. It can't be real. I'm not there. I'm not there._ He starts to panic until he realizes that his head is on the ground. Huh. “Peter? You okay? Can you still hear me?” _Yes._

“He's not looking so good,” Ned’s muddled voice regretfully informs.

“Keep him warm, alright?” Tony orders. _No no no, already too hot,_ Peter wants to scream. “I'll be there in two minutes tops. What the hell happened?” Tony sounds mad. Peter doesn't want Tony to be mad. _Not again. He doesn't deserve to be mad anymore. Not allowed. Only happy Mr. Stark. Not Happy, but he can be happy too. Happy Happy._

“We don't know! He just, just took a drink of his soda and reacted like this!” Ned is definitely panicking.

“Has he ever had that brand of soda before?” Peter realizes that Tony is looking for what could've triggered his reaction. _Smart. Mr. Stark's always smart, except when he’s not. Sometimes he's not so smart. Like with people and emotions._

“Yeah! It's just a regular coke!”

“Who made it?” Tony demands. Then it dawns on Peter. _Oh god. That creepy guy made it. The senior student. My back was turned when I was texting. He must’ve slipped some of the beer in. I'm such an idiot!_

“Guy…kitchen. Had beer…” Peter speaks up. He takes in a few ragged breaths. “Offered…some…said no…turned…my back…” He has to stop to catch his breath.

“Alright, kiddie. Hold tight, I'm almost there. No more talking or you're grounded. Save your energy,” Tony encourages. Peter almost wants to say that Tony can't ground him, but they both know that's not true. Besides, Peter can tell he’s just trying to lift the mood. It’s then that it occurs to him that Tony said it would only take two minutes to get here. _That's not possible. He's too far. Ned said fifteen minutes away. Is he going to get here in time? Nothing's making sense and my hearts pounding. I don't understand. I don't understand. He's not going to make it!_

“Hurry,” Peter pleads in a whisper, but he knows Tony picked up on it. _I'm scared._

“I'm almost there, Pete,” Tony repeats. “Don't worry. We’ll watch all the Star Wars movies you want, even the crappy prequels. We’ll get sick from eating too much ice cream and I swear, I'm gonna make this up to you. No matter what. Just…just hang in there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Irondad and Spiderson to be reunited in the next chapter! Thank you for reading!
> 
> Just a head's up, Wednesday's chapter might go up a bit late because Wednesday is my last final and I won't have time to edit. The update will most likely be a few hours later than usual, but I promise it'll still go up <3
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	22. Dad in Shining Armor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you're all doing well :) Thank you as always for your amazing support, it shocks me every time <3
> 
> QUICK IMPORTANT NOTE: Due to people asking to follow me on social media, I have two accounts on Twitter! I made @/Kevy_Fanfics for purely fanfic related stuff and my personal account is @/kevy_grayce for nerd related content. HOWEVER on @/Kevy_Fanfics, I just put up a poll that you're more than welcome to vote on for what you'd most like to see! Requests and suggestions are accepted <3
> 
> For those of you who are just joining or are reading in the future, welcome! Very fun chapter today filled to the brim with Irondad because it's what you all deserve :') Finally I get to put my EMT knowledge to use!
> 
> TW//Anaphylaxis, needle use (IV), and possibly confusing medical terminology

Peter can feel the sweat slowly dripping down his face as he tries to gasp in breaths. He feels like he’s on fire. The soda should’ve diluted the alcohol, so why does it feel like his body is trying to kill him? There was barely any alcohol to begin with, it was probably just for laughs. It shouldn't have caused  _ this.  _ He can hear voices around him, but he can't tell whose they are. It’s hard to focus on anything. The voices are…comforting? Sort of? He doesn't know.

It isn't until he hears a familiar whirring that he tries to focus on anything aside from his body attempting to spontaneously combust. He knows that sound. It’s the same sound he heard over the phone. He slightly lifts his head in time to see the red and gold glint of the Iron Man suit land with a clunk on the concrete.  _ Oh. That makes sense. But Iron Man being at a high school party for a high school nobody isn't going to be good publicity. Is Mr. Stark going to get in trouble for this? No no, he already has enough problems with the Accords. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.  _ Peter’s head falls back again, but lands on something soft. He’s too out of it to realize it’s Ned’s hand that catches his head.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., get me his vitals from Karen,” a mechanized voice orders. Suddenly, Iron Man’s faceplate completely takes over Peter’s view.

“Hey,” Peter gasps out, trying to sound casual. There’s a brief pause, for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to answer Tony, before his faceplate lifts. His eyebrows are drawn together in barely hidden concern and his soft, brown eyes are enough to send Peter into waterworks. “I’m…sorry.” Against Peter’s will, his voice cracks.

“Nope, no sorries allowed. It’ll be okay. You hear me?” Tony states firmly when he notices Peter’s breathing pick up due to the sudden crying. Unruly tears stream down Peter’s cheeks, making him feel weak. He presses his lips together to desperately pull himself together and nods. “Good. Now, what have I said about taking things from strangers?” Tony is trying to cover up his nerves with humor. Peter can deeply relate.

“Nothing,” Peter plays along with a slight smile. A corner of Tony’s mouth tugs up into a lopsided smile. Unfortunately, it quickly fades when he looks up. Peter tries to follow his gaze, but Ned’s hand stops him from turning his head. Tony’s faceplate snaps closed with a tink, an intimidating addition to his menacing shouts.

“Hey! If I find out one of you did this, I’ll have my lawyers here to  _ sue you _ faster than you can try to upload a damn picture!” Tony yells, his face contorting in rage underneath the mask. People continue to take pictures and videos of the scene regardless. Peter instantly grips onto the forearm of the Iron Man suit, making Tony’s glowing eyes snap back to him. Peter shakes his head, hoping Tony gets what he means. Tony takes a visible breath, then gently slides his arms underneath Peter’s neck and knees. Everything seems blend together as Peter’s vision swims.  _ If he's flying us to the Tower then this isn't going to be fun. _

“Don't…wanna…” Peter tries to explain, but his brain isn't working right.

“I know, kid. I know.” Tony’s tone is gentle, like the time Peter had an anxiety attack in the workshop. He’s surprisingly comforting when he needs to be. Without warning, they rocket into the sky, making Peter’s stomach do flips. Peter grips onto Tony’s shoulders, no doubt denting the armor, but the unexpected adrenaline coursing through his body doesn't care. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., send Peter’s trending vitals to Helen Cho and tell her that we need her in the Medbay ASAP.” Tony looks down to Peter next. “Okay, we’re gonna fly over to the Tower and Helen will- hey, eyes on me, bud.”  _ What? Oh, my eyes are closing.  _ Regardless of the exhaustion pulling at his eyelids, Peter forces them to stay open. “There we go,” Tony praises.

“Tired…too hot…hard…breathe.” Peter’s head starts tipping back again.

“Ah ah ah,” Tony quickly says. “You gotta stay awake or I'm calling Aunt May.”

“You’ll…call her…anyway.” A quiet chuckle comes from the suit, causing Peter to smile ever so slightly.

“Can't get anything past you, kid,” Tony admits. Peter has noticed that Tony calls him “kid” more whenever he’s nervous. He wonders if it grounds Tony or if it’s a nervous habit.

“Chest…being… _ crushed,” _ Peter gasps as his throat tightens. Tony immediately knows what he's referring to.

“No, you're not being crushed. I'm right here with you. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you. You got that? No one.” Peter looks up at Tony and slowly nods. The brisk wind from flying is refreshing on Peter’s warm face and he desperately misses it when they start to slow down. “Shit,” Tony curses under his breath. Peter wants to ask him what’s wrong, but his lips won't move. “Where’s Helen?” A brief pause. “Well then tell Happy to do his job and get those  _ leeches _ out of our way!” Tony seethes. Peter lets his head loll to the side and catches the glimpse of a hoard of people at the entrance to the Tower.  _ Uh oh. _ Tony lands, doing his best to soften their landing as Peter’s stomach lurches. Blinding lights and a flurry of shouted questions assault Peter’s senses, causing dark spots to form in front of his eyes and his ears to ring. In order to escape the sudden influx of sensory input, he turns his head into Tony’s metal covered shoulder. “You okay?”  _ Eyes _ , Peter wants to answer. He hears Tony’s head tilt up with a mechanized whine.

“Stark!” a voice urgently calls, which Peter thinks is Dr. Cho? It’s hard to tell. There’s too much clicking and it’s hard to think. When Tony hears the voice, he surges forward.

“Get the fuck away from my Tower before I have you all arrested!” he barks, pushing through the mass of reporters and flashing lights. As soon as they get inside, the doors thankfully block out the cameras and shouting. “Why the hell weren't you guys waiting in the penthouse?!”

“It would've taken us longer to get to the Medbay from there. So let me do my job,” Dr. Cho demands with a stern voice. Everything is still at first and so quiet that Peter can hear the blood pumping through his heated ears. Then, he starts to feel himself being lowered. He immediately gasps, sending himself into a coughing fit, and tightens his grip on Tony’s armor.

“Pete, you gotta let go,” Tony gently whispers.  _ I can't, I'm falling. I don't want to let go. Don't make me. You're going to let me fall. Please, don't let me fall,  _ Peter’s panicked thoughts scream at him. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise. But you have to let go so they can help you,” Tony’s tone hardens, and Peter knows that he has to listen. Peter slowly relaxes his muscles and softness encompasses his back.

The ride up to the Medbay is a blur. A bunch of different people, presumably doctors, all start asking Peter questions that he doesn't have the energy to answer. Tony does most of the talking and when Peter looks over to him, the Iron Man suit isn't on him anymore. Peter decides to tune things out. At some point an oxygen mask is put on his face and some of the burning in his lungs is alleviated. One thing he does notice is how undeniably sweaty he is, which he can't help but find gross. He knows he would be shivering from the cool layer of sweat if it weren't for the fact that he's pretty convinced that his body is still on  _ fire.  _ But one word instantly catches his attention:  _ anesthesia.  _ He bolts up into a sitting position, inadvertently yanking on the oxygen mask.

“No,” he somehow finds his, albeit raspy, voice. “Not…anesth…” He can't even make his mouth say the word. Suddenly, Tony is slowly pushing his shoulders back onto the gurney.

“I know you said you don't like it, but they need to stitch up your hand and that’ll hurt like hell if you don't have any painkillers,” Tony desperately explains.  _ My hand?  _ Peter glances down to see crimson smeared over his right hand. It must be from when he broke the glass. In the background, he hears Dr. Cho’s rushed orders.

“Keep the non-rebreather mask at fifteen liters per minute. Someone insert an IV and get a saline drip going. We need to flush the alcohol out of his system and keep him hydrated. Tony, we don't have an anesthetic made for him.” Her words are quick and harsh, almost like she’s scolding Tony. Peter’s wheezing picks up at the thought of apathy at the hands of the devilish drug.

“Use Rogers’ reserve at half dosage. F.R.I.D.A.Y., send Peter’s metabolism and healing factor results to Helen’s database.” Tony’s eyes find their way back to my own. “You trust me, right, Pete? The anesthesia is gonna take the pain away and help you relax. I need you to calm down though, okay? Deep breaths, just like we practiced.” Peter hiccups as tears flow down the sides of his face and he distantly feels the pinch of the IV needle.

“Please,  _ please,”  _ he begs.  _ They can't do it. I’ll go insane. _

“He has a dangerous high-grade fever of 104.7°F. We need to cool him down  _ now _ ,” Dr. Cho orders.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay kiddo. I promised I'm not leaving, and I don't break promises.” Tony’s eyes hold so much sincerity that it’s hard for Peter to not put his full faith in his mentor. Peter just can't go through that numbing feeling again. Before he can argue, an ice-cold washcloth is placed on his forehead and he can't help but sigh in relief.  _ Now I just need an ice bath. _ The relief is short-lived when his muscles relax against his will and he feels his consciousness start to float.

“No, no, no, no…” he mutters, gripping Tony’s hand to try to tether himself to reality. He doesn't want to stop feeling. He’d rather feel the pain than the numbness.

“I've got you. I've got you,” Tony awkwardly tries to comfort as he pats Peter’s hand. Peter can barely feel it. However, he does feel a pressure on his other hand and slowly looks over to see a doctor with a needle. It feels like his body is floating and it’s hard to focus on any one thing. His eyes blink sluggishly as his body fights to stay conscious, but he can already feel his metabolism burning through the anesthesia.

“Why isn't he going under?!” a harsh voice demands.

“His metabolism is fighting it off, like I  _ tried _ to tell you was going to happen,” Tony snaps back. “But we can’t OD him on Roger’s anesthesia which could knock the  _ Hulk _ out!” His voice rises in frustration with each word. Dr. Cho ignores his tone, and continues her ordering.

“Cut his shirt. I want an EKG every two minutes and pull up his trending vitals. Where’s those ice packs?!” she shouts. Peter vaguely feels his shirt being lifted and he looks up in time to see it cut down the center.

“Liked…that shirt…” he mumbles, looking back up at Tony as they stick electrodes to his chest.

“Hate to break it to you bud, but that was  _ not _ a good shirt. ‘Gravity is such a downer’ might be the worst pun I've ever read,” Tony chuckles breathlessly. “Tell you what, I’ll take you shopping after this. No dress suits, no fancy ass restaurants. Any nerdy, geeked-out store you want to go to, we’ll freaking go. Hell, if you wanna spend winter break in  _ Rome _ I’ll take you there in heartbeat. Even Aunt May and your friend Ted can come. How’s that sound?” Peter starts to hear a constant beeping in the background.

“Ned…” Peter corrects, but gives Tony’s hand a squeeze nonetheless. Tony returns it without hesitation. A cold sensation starts to spread from both sides of Peter’s abdomen. They must have gotten those ice packs, and Peter would be lying if they didn't feel absolutely fantastic. He relishes in the moment of comfort, until his heart rate starts to pick back up. The world slowly comes back into focus, and with it comes an uncomfortable pinching in his right hand. A few seconds later, the pinching morphs into sharp pain prodding at his palm. His heart picks up speed and pounds against his chest when the panic seeps its way back into his body. His breathing quickens and his eyes lock back onto Tony. Feeling slowly returns to Peter’s arms and legs. Drifting off only to be slammed back into reality.  _ Feeling. Feeling is good. God I hate this. Anesthesia sucks. _

“Tachycardia at 162 beats per minute,” Dr. Cho’s firm voice informs. “Are we out of the anesthesia or do we need to increase the flow?”

“His body already got used to it,” Tony mumbles through clenched teeth.

“With all due respect, that's impossible. He can't adapt that fast,” another voice counters. That’s what tips Tony over the edge.

“I'm pretty sure we’re already past the realm of possibility and  _ with all due respect,  _ I don't give a shit about your closed-minded opinion. Don't try to give me a debriefing on  _ my  _ kid! Got it?” he seethes. Peter is convinced that the leftover anesthesia is messing with his hearing.

“Tony, if you don't cooperate with my team, then you get to leave. I can't have you distracting them. So keep Peter calm and let us do what you pay us to do,” Dr. Cho immediately cuts in to end their brief argument. Tony clenches his jaw, but doesn't say anything else. “Administer one hundred milligrams of morphine. Finish his hand as quickly as possibly, we don't know how long it’s going to last. Fever is at 101.2. We might not need that epinephrine, but keep it close.” She continues to calmly give orders and the morphine isn't as bad as the anesthesia, but not by much. It’s enough to get Peter’s hand stitched up and keep his breathing as well as his heart rate under control.

“You’re doing great. Almost done, Pete,” Tony encourages, feeling completely out of his depth. It’s easier for Peter to breathe and his head is almost completely clear, save for the numbing effects of the morphine. Still, he can already feel the horrendous drug leaving his system.

“O2 saturation at ninety-eight percent. Pulse ninety-four, strong and regular. Blood pressure 128 over 79. Let’s move him to a room and we’ll monitor him for the next twenty-four hours,” Dr. Cho rattles off and Peter feels the gurney begin to roll. Tony's hand never breaks the hold on Peter’s. Peter isn't sure if it’s because he's gripping Tony’s too tight or if Tony is refusing to let go. Either way, it helps. A few nurses get Peter situated in his room before quietly leaving him and Tony.

It’s silent for a few minutes. Tony is inspecting Peter from head to toe to gather his bearings and just make sure he's comfortable. Peter notices the red blotches on his arms that he hadn't noticed before, and distantly wonders if they're on his face too. Tony is the one to break the silence.

“I can feel all the gray hairs you're giving me.” He raises an eyebrow at Peter, accompanied with a slight smile.

“It's okay, no one will notice a few more,” Peter jokes back. Tony scoffs and places a hand over his chest.

“ _ More? _ I'll have you know that I look utterly  _ fantastic  _ for my age. Ask anyone.” He smirks proudly.

“Sure, Mr. Stark. You don't look a day over forty-five.” Peter mirror his smirk as best he can and Tony rolls his eyes.

“You better watch it, kid. With all that disrespect, maybe I won't be your knight in shining armor to save you next time,” he quips.

“At least no one can tell me my internship isn't real anymore.” At that, Tony narrows his eyes.

“Who doesn't believe in your internship?”  _ Well this isn't exactly where I expected the conversation to go,  _ Peter absentmindedly notes.

“Everyone? Would you believe a nerdy high school kid who suddenly said he got an internship with  _ Tony Stark _ out of nowhere?” Tony opens his mouth, then closes it. “Exactly.”

“Well who cares about those dipshits anyways. Speaking of which,” he pulls out his phone with his free hand “I have to call my lawyers and see how many videos of your incident I can get down before they go viral,” he grumbles. “Then, I'm gonna have to call your aunt.” He visibly shudders.

_ “Nice knowin’ ya,” _ Peter mimics Tony's words from the last time Peter had to break news to his aunt. Tony shakes his head at the teen’s tone and stands up, but for some reason Peter grips his hand tighter. Tony looks down as if he forgot he was holding onto Peter's hand at all. “Can you, um, stay? Please? I'm…”  _ I'm scared to be alone. _ Tony eyes Peter carefully, searching his face.

“Of course, kid.” He sits back down and Peter is able to let out a breath that he didn't realize had gotten caught in his throat.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he lowers his head.

“Don't ever apologize for needing someone, Peter. It makes you human. The last thing I want you to do is not ask for help if you need it, alright? Heroes need help too. If anything, we need it more than anything in our line of work. Especially after everything you've gone through.” Tony's voice sobers, no longer holding any of the humor it had a few moments ago.

“Yeah…trauma isn't fun, huh?” Peter tries to relieve some of the tension, but even he knows he failed miserably. Still, Tony smiles slightly and keeps it going.

“Welcome to the PTSD club, kid!” he feigns excitement.

“We have a… club?” Peter tilts his head in confusion.

“There's two of us now, so I'm deeming it a club,” Tony explains smugly. There's a few beats of silence and all the amusement once again dissipates. “I'm…sorry.” Peter doesn't think he has ever heard Tony sound so sincere. It shocks him to the core. So much so that all he's able to do is stare at Tony with wide eyes for a solid, gut wrenching minute.

“What? Why? It's not your fault that jerk-”

“Not about that. About…about Toomes. Taking the suit. Letting you get hurt. Cancelling on you. Losing my temper. Yelling at you. Screwing up your childhood.  _ Everything. _ I'm…not the best mentor, but I swear I'm going to be better from now on. I won't disappoint you again.” Their eye contact is so intense that Peter is almost tempted to look away, but he doesn't. Tony’s eyes are unwavering and his lips are pressed into a thin line. He’s dead serious and it’s honestly jarring.

“You're not a disappointment, Mr. Stark.” Peter tries to put as much sincerity in his voice as humanly possible. Somehow, Tony chuckles lightly.

“You just haven't been around long enough yet.” He takes a deep breath. Peter slowly lowers his head.

“I'm sorry, too. I should probably be more sorry,” he chuckles quietly. When Tony shoots him a confused look, he elaborates. “I shouldn't have hacked your suit. Or not listened to you about, like, anything. I just…I wanna help people, y’know? I shouldn't have gone behind your back when you were just trying to help me and keep me safe. And…sorry about ditching the Tower when you told me to stay. I know you were just trying to make sure I didn't get hurt more than I already was.” Peter awkwardly rubs the back of his head with a shy smile. “I can be a lot to deal with, I know… I’ll cut back on the rushing into danger. I won't hide when I'm hurt, either. And I'll listen more, I promise.” The two sit in silence for a few moments.

“I don't just  _ deal _ with you. I care…about you.” Tony sighs. He doesn't admit that to many people, and Peter knows that. He has to give this a shot. It’s now or never. “It doesn't matter many spider powers you have. You’re still a kid with your whole life ahead of you. You’re a minor using my tech. Therefore, it's my rules, okay? I'm not trying to stop you from being Spidey, but I need you to learn that being reckless isn't okay. I will do what I have to do to keep you safe, no matter what that entails. Understand? We on the same page?” Tony stares at the kid for his response, hoping that he hasn't somehow scarred him.  _ God, I'm bad at this. _ Peter nods thoughtfully as he absorbs Tony's conditions.

“Yes, sir. I understand. Can't save anyone if I'm dead, right?” Peter questions rhetorically with a laugh. Tony smiles, grateful that they're finally okay, and nods in agreement.

“Look, Peter.” He only uses Peter's full name when Peter is either in trouble or he’s trying to be sincere. Neither of which Peter is prepared for. Tony considers his next words very carefully. “I'm going to do my best to give you the damn world. You have to promise me that all you're gonna worry about is how you're going to change it.” Once again, Peter is speechless. Of all the things he expected to hear out of Tony next, that wasn't one of them. How is Peter  _ not  _ supposed to start crying at something like that? He decides to blame it on the exhaustion. Still, he nods as tears fall onto the plain, white bed sheets.

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! We're back to the fluff on Saturday!! Don't forget, if you want a say in what comes out next or have any recommendations/requests, head over to @/Kevy_Fanfics on twitter to vote on the poll :)
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	23. Start Anew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello you lovely readers you!! Welcome back to the RESURGANCE OF FLUFF. And it's a long chap! This is the precursor to what I personally think is the funniest, most tickling thing I've written?? Im just excited for the next chapter and this chapter hints at it :)
> 
> No trigger warnings! Just enjoy the fluff while it lasts ;) Also, I published the first chap of the texting fic you guys really wanted! Head on over if you wanna read more shenanigans! Have fun and stay safe
> 
> -Kevy

“So what you’re saying,” Tony starts, “is that these things you quote are called ‘Vines.’” He puts up air quotes and Peter nods while sitting up straighter on the cot. “And Vines have no relation to the green, hanging foliage in jungles.” Peter then promptly shakes his head. “But now Vine is ‘dead?’” Tony uses air quotes again, and Peter regretfully nods.

“May it Rest In Peace.” Tony raises a skeptical eyebrow, but continues nonetheless.

“So now they're on YouTube in video compilations…” He eyes Peter warily as he repeats the information.

“Pretty much! And the super good ones are fun to quote, especially when someone else knows the reference. Like if I were to say ‘road work ahead’ someone could say ‘yeah, I sure hope it does!’” Peter smiles widely in anticipation, but Tony just stares at him.

“I'm…concerned about what you find funny, kid.”

“Awe c’mon! That's a great one! Hold on, I'll pull up the video.” Peter reaches for his phone on the bedside table, but Tony interrupts him.

“Hold on, I still don't understand the difference between Vines and Me Me’s. Then there's all those weird words you kids seem to use. Why can't you all just use one of the tens of thousands of words already in the English Dictionary?” Tony questions with exasperation. They’ve been going over all this stuff for the last half hour and Tony still doesn't get it.

“No no no, they're called _memes,_ Mr. Stark. You don't pronounce the second ‘e,’” Peter corrects. Tony crosses his arms and leans back slightly in his plastic chair.

“Okay, fine. Do enlighten me on what _memes_ are,” he copies Peter's tone and pronunciation. Peter’s face instantly lights up and he grabs his phone.

“Most of the good memes come from Twitter, but sometimes there’s some from Tumblr and Facebook, too.” Tony suddenly snaps his fingers in recognition.

“Facebook! I know that one,” he proudly admits. Peter stares at Tony for a few moments before looking back down at his phone. “What? Is Facebook not _lit_ enough for you, _fam?”_ Peter slowly looks back up at him.

“Mr. Stark, please stop. I'm begging you,” he pleads.

 _“Chillax,_ Pete. No need to get _triggered_ about it.” Tony is doing it on purpose now. _He wants me to suffer,_ Peter comes to the conclusion.

“Oh my god, this is how I die,” he groans and lies back on the cot.

“Not on my watch, Underoos.”

“I just wanted to show you funny Vines, maybe update you on some memes. Make your boring, old, billionaire life a little brighter with _yeet_ and _fr e sh a voca do._ I don't deserve this,” Peter preaches with his arm over his face. “You're so out of date that it _hurts.”_ Tony scoffs and crosses his arms.

“What are you talking about? I'm _hip.”_ He pops the “p” and has the audacity to smirk, knowing how much it’s destroying Peter’s soul.

“Nope! Y’know what? I'm just gonna keep referencing Vines and if you don't understand them, I hope you think back to this moment. I tried to help you.” Peter purses his lips and raises his eyebrows before turning his attention back to his phone.

“Sheesh, what a pouter,” Tony chuckles. A comfortable silence envelops them and he scrolls through his Stark Phone as Peter stares through his cracked screen. With as quiet as it is, Peter can't help but start to think over the past twenty-four hours in his head. He got punched in the face then got slipped alcohol which could have killed him, but surprisingly that's not what sticks out. What pulls at his attention is the memory of Tony's phone call.

“Um, Mr. Stark?” he finds himself saying out loud.

“Yeah, kid?” Tony responds without looking up from his phone.

“Can I ask you a question?” Peter asks nervously as he scratches neck. Tony shifts his eyes and lifts his hand to slowly guide Peter’s hand away from scratching the hives.

“Of course. Shoot,” he encourages.

“The phone call you got…it was about the Accords again, wasn't it.” It comes out as more of a statement than a question, but Tony stiffly nods nonetheless. His grip has tightened on his phone and his eye contact is unwavering. “Is…is everything gonna be okay?” Peter carefully asks in hopes of not agitating him. Tony takes a steadying breath and nods again.

“Yeah. Don't worry, I've got it handled. People can just be frustrating sometimes. Nothing for you to fret over.” He pats Peter’s shoulder, who nods.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Peter asks. _Anything that Spider-Man can do?_ remains unspoken.

“Trust me, kid, even if you could help, I wouldn't want you anywhere near the Sokovia Accords.” Tony runs a hand through his hair.

“Or Secretary Ross?” Peter suggests. Tony freezes, but then slowly nods.

“Yeah. Or Secretary Ross.” His voice is tight and he stares at his lap. Different questions race through Peter’s mind, but he doesn't know if he's allowed to ask any of them. Instead, he keeps his eyes trained on his hands as he holds back the words from leaking out of his mouth. “The only person that rivals you in overthinking is Bruce,” Tony jokes lightly. A small smile tugs at Peter’s lips.

“Yeah, I'm working on it.”

“If you have a question, ask it,” Tony prompts nonchalantly. Peter looks up from his hands, seeing nothing but candor in Tony’s eyes.

“Does _Spider-Man_ have to sign the Accords…?” Peter asks anxiously. He really doesn't want to have to sign something that will restrict him from being able to help people. Tony sighs and rubs his forehead with his thumb.

“Not if I can help it, that's for damn sure. You aren't officially an Avenger so I'm hoping they'll keep you out of it entirely.” For the first time since Homecoming, Peter is actually glad he turned down the offer to join the Avengers. If he had to sign the Accords and someone got hurt because the government didn't _allow_ him to help…he’d never forgive himself. “Enough of the boring stuff. You still haven't told me what _yeet_ means.” Peter can't help but laugh at Tony’s overdramatic pronunciation.

“Oh, right!” Peter searches up the video on YouTube and hands his phone to Tony. Tony angles the phone, but ends up narrowing his eyes.

“How can you even see anything on the screen with all the cracks? That's it, as soon as we get you out of here, you’re getting a Stark Phone,” he says with no room left for argument, even though it's Peter’s first instinct to. Regardless, Tony presses play on the video and Peter can slightly see the screen as the kid starts dancing. Peter can't help but smile and tries to hold back his laughing.

****

_Yah, yah, yeet, yah, yah, yah, yah, yeet, yah!_

****

Tony raises his eyebrow at it, then hands the phone back to Peter.

“I don't get it. You find that funny?” Tony almost looks concerned at Peter’s choice of humor.

“It’s a _classic,_ Mr. Stark!” Peter defends with a wide smile.

“Sure,” Tony says, utterly unconvinced. “I think I’d rather just stay in the dark. Make all the references you want.” Peter smirks, _Oh he’s going to regret that so fast and I’m going to have way too much fun with it._

“You say that now. Just wait ‘till I start saying ‘I smell like beef’ and then you’ll _really_ wanna know.” Tony stands up and straightens out his suit. It's wrinkled from how long he’s been sitting.

“Nope, can't say that I do. I'm gonna go get a cup of coffee, you want anything? Preferably without caffeine,” he warns, hinting that Peter doesn't even get the option.

“Hey! I can handle caffeine!” Peter crosses his arms confidently over his chest.

“After the way you reacted one sip of _diluted_ beer? No way in hell am I letting you drink anything besides water and juice. Your aunt would kill me. So, juice or water?” Peter huffs, but gives in with a pout.

“Apple juice,” he mutters, lowering his head. Tony simply smirks triumphantly before walking out the door. Peter considers taking his brief moment of free time to text Ned and MJ, since the last time they saw him was when he looked like he was dying.

****

**_Our Dysfunctional Family_ **

**_12:52 am_ **

Peter: _hey guys, just letting you know im okay. Mr. Stark is getting me something to drink so i thought id give a quick update. Dr. Cho hasnt gotten back to us yet about a diagnosis, but i have some hives so maybe it was an allergic reaction? maybe? we’ll find out soon i guess. may’s coming when she gets off her shift but idk when thatll be. sorry for bailing on you guys_

Ned: _IM SO GLAD YOURE OKAY I WAS SO WORRIED_

MJ: _He’s been pacing nonstop and trying not to cry._

Ned: _I HAVE NOT_

Ned: _okay maybe i have_

MJ: _How are you feeling? Aren't you supposed to be immune to everything?_

MJ: _Not that it gives you a valid excuse to poison your liver._

Peter: _im actually feeling pretty normal_

Peter: _just a bit hungry_

Ned: _wait wait wait_

Ned: _how did we just gloss over the fact that TONY STARK IS GETTING YOU JUICE?????_

Peter: _yeeeeeaaah but hes getting himself coffee too and im waiting on may_

MJ: _You're such a fanboy, Leeds._

Ned: _hes a genius AND a superhero AND my best friend’s mentor-dad-boss_

Ned: _how can i not nerd out???_

Peter: _where the hell did you get “dad” from??????_

Ned: _oh peter_

Ned: _poor blind peter_

Peter: _oh my god ned you’re reading too much into it_

Peter: _right MJ?_

MJ: _Well, he did go out of his way to come pick you up when you got yourself in trouble._

MJ: _And he came in the Iron Man suit when he could have just driven._

MJ: _You tell me, Parker._

Peter: _i dont like you guys_

Peter: _i want new best friends_

Ned: _you love us and you know we’re right_

Peter: _wait werent a whole bunch of people recording what happened_

Peter: _please tell me no one posted any videos and we arent on twitter’s trending page_

Ned: _actually i havent seen anything_

MJ: _Surprisingly, it’s been quiet. There's nothing relating to your incident._

Ned: _yeah lucky for you #Irondad isnt trending_

MJ: _That's catchy._

Peter: _no its not dont encourage him_

Ned: _youre just jealous cause i came up with it first peter_

MJ: _Somehow I highly doubt that._

****

“Hey Pete, look who I ran into on my way back.” Peter looks up from his phone at the sudden voice just in time to see May rush past Tony. She's at Peter’s bedside engulfing him in a bone-crushing hug before he can even blink.

“Are you alright?! I'm so so _so_ sorry I wasn't there for you. I got the call from Tony and then I couldn't get anyone to take my shift and I was so _worried!”_ May quickly pulls back and puts both of her hands on Peter's cheeks to look over his face. She’s still in her scrubs from her shift at the ER. “How do you feel? Are you comfortable? You never get to go to another stupid high school party ever again, you hear me? I don't want you near any of those, those _delinquents_ who think _poisoning_ a sixteen year old is _funny!_ They could've killed you and I was at something as insignificant as work when you-”

“May!” Peter cuts off her nervous rambling. She stops, staring at him with panic stricken eyes and breathing heavy. Peter gives his aunt a genuine smile. “I'm perfectly okay. I promise. Mr. Stark’s got, like, everything under control.” She narrows her eyes skeptically, then turns her glare to Tony, who instantly raises his hands in defense.

“You cancelled on him,” she reminds in a dangerously low tone. _Oh yeah, that whole thing happened… At least she doesn't know that he yelled at me too,_ Peter silently thanks.

“And I apologized profusely,” Tony answers honestly. May looks back to Peter as if asking for confirmation. Peter immediately nods multiple times in hopes that it helps her to forgive him.

“Then what in the hell possessed you to cancel on a kid that looks up to you more than anyone else on the planet? Hm? You _crushed_ him,” May demands. Tony tightly clasps his hands together.

“May, stop. It’s okay, really,” Peter reassures, even though he's slightly curious too. Before he snapped at Peter, he said that he had a nightmare…

“No, it’s not okay. I want an answer.” May’s voice is stern and commanding, leaving no room for either of them to argue. Tony clears his throat and looks to the corner of the room, avoiding all possible eye contact.

“I may or may not have had…an unfavorable, fictitious experience involving Peter the night before,” he recounts nonchalantly. _Wait…_ May’s anger disappears as she brings her eyebrows together in confusion.

“You had a nightmare about Peter?” she rephrases bluntly. Tony nods, still averting his eyes.

“I couldn't stop thinking about it and I knew it’d get worse if I saw him in person. So…I opted out.” He presses his lips together. _It was about me?_ Peter tries to take in the new information. Something resembling understanding makes its way onto May’s face. She chuckles and shakes her head slightly.

“I get those all the time.” Tony and Peter both snap their heads towards her and say in unison,

“What?” May smirks to each of them.

“You heard me. It happens when you care about your kid, especially when this one in particular puts his life on the line every other day. I try not to think about it, but nightmares happen. All you can do is make sure that you keep an eye on him. We can't protect him from everything, even though I'm pretty sure we both want to put him in a plastic bubble to keep him safe,” she teases. Peter is pretty sure her words hold a good amount of sincerity, though. Tony chuckles with a slight smile.

“Believe me, I tried to add that as a feature to the suit. Didn't pan out,” he admits.

 _“Excuse me?”_ Peter squeaks. “You were planning something else along with every other safety protocol known to man that you have installed in my suit?! How is that even possible?! What else could you fit in there?!” Tony simply shrugs.

“Better safe than sorry. Bubble wrap comes in handy.” Tony shrugs. _This is unbelievable._ May only laughs and roughs up Peter’s hair as he pouts.

“I guess I should be _thanking_ you then,” she proposes, raising an eyebrow at Tony.

“That’s not necessary. I prefer to avoid any mushy, sentimental stuff.” Tony waves off the idea.

“That's because you're emotionally constipated,” Peter points out with a knowing smile. _Emotions and Mr. Stark mix as well as oil and water._

“And you're obnoxious,” Tony grumbles halfheartedly with an eye roll.

“You sure you're feeling okay? Not too warm?” May turns her attention back to Peter and places her cheek on his forehead to feel his temperature. Tony updated her on everything that happened, so she's very aware of Peter’s previous high-grade fever.

“I heal fast, remember?” Peter assures. _Maybe I can actually start to get back at Mr. Stark…_ “Besides, I've got the power of God and anime on my side!” May laughs, but Tony stares at Peter in pure confusion. Peter doesn't think he has ever seen Tony so confused, which makes it so much more satisfying.

“What…” Tony asks, utterly lost.

“Don't worry, it’s just a Vine reference,” May informs him. Peter smirks at Tony triumphantly, who narrows his eyes.

“Really? You're gonna start this now? You sure you wanna do that?” Tony challenges.

“In this world, Mr. Stark, it’s either yeet…or be yeeted,” Peter responds as seriously as possible without emotion.

“You better watch your scrawny, prepubescent ass before I find a new intern,” Tony warns. May holds back a laugh at Tony’s unrealistic threat.

“I'm not prepubescent!” Peter defends while trying to keep his voice low and even. _He’d never get rid of me and he knows it._

“Whatever floats your boat, kid.”

“Okay, knock it off you two,” May cuts in. “And you be nice to my kid or we’re gonna have issues.” She points a finger at Tony with a smile, but Peter knows better than to think she's only joking. Tony knows that too. He crosses his heart, which seems to satisfy May. Before they can keep talking, there's a knock at the door.

“Good very early morning, you three,” Dr. Cho greets as she walks in. Out of curiosity, Peter glances to his phone to see that it's 1:16 am.

“Hi, I'm May Parker, Peter’s aunt.” May and Dr. Cho shake hands.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. I have updates on Peter, all good things too.” May seems to let out a relieved breath and closes her eyes to compose herself.

“Cool, let's hear it,” Tony prompts.

“Well, for starters, it wasn't poison or anaphylaxis. You have what's known as alcohol intolerance,” Dr. Cho starats. Peter narrows his eyes in confusion at the diagnosis.

“So, my body just rejected the alcohol? That's it?” _Seems a bit anticlimactic._

“It's common, yes, but that doesn't make it any less dangerous. People have gone into cardiac arrest from alcohol intolerance, so I’d count your blessings we got to you quick.” Dr. Cho smiles, and Peter relaxes a bit to mirror it. “Alcohol intolerance is usually caused when your body can't break down the complex sugars. In your case, your body is hypersensitive to any foreign substance from entering your body. Your enhanced immune system, which has kept you from contracting infections and diseases, went into overdrive trying to get the alcohol out of your system. Alcohol is poisonous to the human body, so as soon as it got into your system it was immediately rejected. Your throat closed up to prevent anymore from getting in and your skin flushed pink because it caused vasodilation, which are enlarged blood vessels in layman's terms. Good news is that it won't bother you as long as you don't drink alcohol. Bad news is that your college years are going to be a lot less experimental now. But I'm sure your aunt still sees that as a positive.” May nods gratefully, taking another deep breath.

“Stupid radioactive spider,” Peter mutters and crosses his arms in defeat. It's not like he was looking too forward to drinking alcohol, but he was curious and now he doesn't even get the _option._

“I guess being a crime-fighting Spider-Kid _does_ have its drawbacks, hm?” Tony chastises with a smirk.

“Spider- _Man,”_ Peter corrects.

“Not that this isn't precious,” Dr. Cho cuts in with a monotone voice, “but I have other patients to get to. You might have a lingering headache for a few hours, but nothing some rest can't fix. Besides that, he’s good to go. It was nice seeing you, Peter, but next time I see you I'd rather have you not be a patient. Alright?” She smiles genuinely.

“Can't disagree with you there. Thanks, Dr. Cho,” Tony agrees with a wave. With that, Dr. Cho leaves the room. May stretches out her arms as she stands up straighter.

“Alright, monster. You've caused enough issues for one night. Time to go.” She pats Peter’s shoulder affectionately, but Peter couldn't agree with her more. Sitting at home relaxing and sleeping in his own bed sounds like the best thing he has ever heard.

“Actually, you mind if he sticks around? I've got some things to make up to him,” Tony suggests nonchalantly. May eyes him carefully, no doubt wanting to outright deny him. Instead, she nods patiently.

“You know, that's a great idea, Tony!” she agrees, overly enthused. Peter is instantly wary. _Oh no, this is a bad sign._ Tony senses it too.

“It is?” he asks cautiously.

“Absolutely! Since it's officially the weekend, you can make it up to him for the next two days,” May practically orders. Peter knew there was a catch. Tony's eyes widen and he immediately tries to backtrack.

“That's not what I-”

“Sure it is! I'm sure Tony has plenty of clothes and food to spare. You boys have fun, try not to burn New York to the ground, and I'll see you Monday.” May presses a kiss to the top of Peter’s head and gives Tony a _look_ that Peter has been on the receiving end of too many times to count. It's usually a look he gets when May tells him to pull his shit together.

“Yeah, lots of fun,” Tony agrees warily runs a hand over his face. May smiles as if she has just won an extensive argument.

“Good. Don't stay up too much later.” May runs a hand through Peter’s hair to fix it before walking out the door. _The power May has is unreal…_

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand, Underoos. We’ll get some food in you and then ship you off to dreamland. Chop chop.” Tony snaps his fingers and slips his iconic, color tinted sunglasses back on. _Why does he need to wear them inside?_ Peter wonders.

“But I'm not ready to sleep,” he grumbles as he jumps off the cot. He gracefully lands on his feet, but Tony rubs his forehead.

“Can you at least take it easy after tonight? Jesus, you're gonna give me a heart attack.” Peter shrugs his shoulders before walking to the door.

“I feel pretty good, actually. I'm not even tired.” _Do I want to relax? Yes. Would I rather sleep when I could be hanging out in Stark Tower? Not on your life._

“Just because your aunt isn't here doesn't mean you get to break the rules. You're gonna eat your chicken nuggets and drink all your milk then sleep whether you like it or not,” Tony tries to sound stern as he lets Peter get into the elevator first, before entering himself. Peter looks up at him with an amused smile.

“Do you think that teenagers survive on _just_ pizza and chicken nuggets?” Tony really knows nothing about kids and Peter finds it fantastic. Tony clasps his hands in front of him.

“I think teenagers survive on _just_ sass. You'll eat your damn dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets and you'll like it.” Peter can't argue with that logic. The elevator doors open and Tony walks out with his head held high.

“Well look who it is.” Peter perks up at the voice. _Hey, I know that voice!_

“Ms. Potts!” He peeks out from behind Tony and waves to her. She smiles sweetly and waves a small wave back. She's leaning against the pristine kitchen counter, with a magazine in her hands, in surprisingly casual clothes. _Well, it is after 1 am. Wait, why’s she even awake?_

“Hello, _darling,”_ Tony greets with forced sweetness. “I thought you weren't coming back until tomorrow morning.”

“My flight got in early. I expected you to be awake, but I didn't expect you to be making Peter stay up so late. Everything okay?” Pepper eyes him carefully, but she doesn't seem mad. Peter really hopes that they worked everything out.

“It’s…kind of a long story,” Peter saves Tony from having to answer and chuckles sheepishly.

“And the kid’s tired and hungry, so we’re gonna get working on that.” Tony pats Peter’s shoulder before walking past her into the kitchen.

“I said I'm _not_ tired, Mr. Stark,” Peter quickly counters. “How was your…trip, Ms. Potts?” _The goal is to not be awkward._

“Nothing exciting, just business.” Pepper smiles warmly, reminding Peter of May. “How are you doing, though?”

“I'm actually pretty good, thanks.” Peter smiles back. Tony scoffs as he opens the freezer door. Pepper looks back at him curiously, then shakes her head at him. “Y'know, I can do that myself, Mr. Stark. You don't have to make me anything.” Peter hates making Tony babysit him when he's a fully capable sixteen year old.

“Nope, I got it, kid.” Tony pulls out a bag of frozen dino shaped chicken nuggets and proceeds to dump the entire bag onto a large plate. Pepper and Peter slowly look back to each other.

“Speaking of _business,”_ Pepper starts, “did you finish the paperwork I asked you to fill out?”

“No,” Tony answers blatantly while putting the dozens of nuggs in the microwave.

“Really, Tony? I gave you one thing to do while I was gone and you still don't do it?” Pepper turns towards him in exasperation.

“I was a bit busy, _sweetums.”_ Tony easily brushes her off. Peter smiles slyly and takes the opportunity when he sees it.

“You had one job, Mr. Stark. This is why we can't have nice things.” Both of them look to Peter. Tony is confused, but Pepper has a smile on her face.

“I'm Tony Stark? I can have all the nice things I want.” _Poor guy doesn't get any references._

“You're so out of date,” Peter says with a sigh, shaking his head.

“Yeah, Tony. Even I understood that one,” Pepper eggs on. Peter has to press his lips together to keep from laughing.

“No. _No._ You two do _not_ get to team up against me. I'll ground you both,” Tony threatens, but Pepper openly laughs.

“You think you can ground me? Try again,” she challenges. Tony raises an eyebrow at her challenge, then smirks.

“Hey, kid. Y’know how I said I'd make things up to you? How ‘bout you and me go on a trip? Say…Tahiti? I'm sure you'd love to see all the women on the beach in _super_ thin-” Pepper smacks Tony with her magazine before he can finish.

“You better watch it, Anthony!” she scolds with a wide smile on her face.

“Oh look! Pep says no such luck, kid. Big surprise.” Tony slings his arm around Pepper’s shoulders as she playfully rolls her eyes. Peter can't help but smile at their antics. It's good to see them happy again. Then an idea pops into his head.

“How about you make it up to me in a different way?” Tony raises a curious eyebrow.

“Such as…?” he prompts.

“I've always wanted to ride a segway,” Peter offers with a smile. Tony chuckles and nods slightly.

“I'm sure we could make that work.”

 _“And_ I wanna try learning sign language.” This earns Peter confused looks from both of them.

“Sign language? How come?” Pepper questions.

“Well, when I fought Mysterio a few days ago, there was a deaf girl and I felt bad that I couldn't sign to her. I wanna learn in case something like that happens again,” Peter answers honestly, accompanied by a nonchalant shrug. Pepper slowly smiles at his admission.

“That's a really sweet reason, Peter,” she praises. “We’ll make it a deal on one condition. You call me Pepper instead of Ms. Potts,” she offers. Peter can't hold back his wide smile.

“Sounds good to me, Pepper!” It already feels weird calling her that, but he'll get used to it eventually.

“Couple that deal with a more regular training regimen too. You're not getting out of training that easily,” Tony adds while turning his attention back to the microwave.

“That's fair,” Peter agrees with another shrug.

“Now you're gonna eat all these chicken nuggets and then you're gonna _sleep_. I apparently have to go fill out some obligatory papers,” Tony grumbles as he sets the plate down in front of Peter.

“Go get that bread, Mr. Stark!” Peter encourages with an innocent smile.

“I'm literally begging you to stop.” Tony rubs his forehead with his thumb. Pepper laughs at them, making Peter feel even more victorious. “You're both traitors,” Tony huffs before leaving in the elevator.

“I have to go make sure he signs the right things. Otherwise he might end up signing away who knows what. Are going to be okay by yourself?” Pepper double checks. Peter nods, thinking that this is where he can start putting his master plan into motion…

“Yep! No worries, Pepper.” Peter smiles reassuringly, and Pepper returns it before leaving in the elevator too. “Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” He pops a chicken nugget in his mouth.

“Yes, Peter?” she responds immediately. A devious smile spreads across his face.

“Do you happen to know any Vines?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff? In this economy?? It's more likely than you think. Thank you so much for reading as always!
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	24. The Great Vine Catastrophe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! HAPPY PRIDE MONTH TO EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU! No matter how you identify, all of you are valid and don't let anyone else tell you different <3 This is a safe space and I'm so proud of you all!!❤🧡💛💚💙💜
> 
> As always thank you for all the support and encouragement throughout this story <3 A bit of a short chapter today but trust me, it has a very fun time :) No trigger warnings, enjoy the fluff while you have it!! Just have fun and stay safe!
> 
> -Kevy

The next morning, Peter is ready to put his plan of revenge into motion. Well, he _was_ ready until he walks out of his room to see both Tony _and_ Rhodey standing near the bar. Tony quickly notices Peter’s entrance and nods him over.

“Mornin’, kid,” Tony greets followed by a sip of his coffee. Rhodey looks over his shoulder to find Peter and smiles.

“Look who's finally awake. Tony was starting to get antsy.” He smirks at Tony, who rolls his eyes. Peter shyly approaches the two with a forced smile. _Play it cool, Parker. You’ve already met Colonel Rhodes. Once._

“I don't get antsy,” Tony simply counters before turning his attention back to Peter. “There’s eggs in the microwave,” he informs nonchalantly. _He made me breakfast? I guess he’s going all in on that “making it up to me” thing._

“Um, thank you, Mr. Stark. Morning, Colonel Rhodes.” Peter smiles to both of them before walking into the kitchen.

 _“Rhodey,”_ Rhodey corrects,

“Sorry, it just feels disrespectful to not call you by your rank.” Tony turns to Peter with narrowed eyes.

“Then why do you have such a problem calling me and Pep by our first names?” Tony raises an eyebrow. Peter knows why; because they're his idols and he has looked up to them his whole life. Of course, that's not what he says.

“Because May raised me with manners, _Mr. Stark.”_

“Flattery will get you absolutely nowhere, kid,” Tony opposes.

“You _know_ that’s not true,” Rhodey laughs. “Anyone feeds you enough compliments and they have you wrapped around their finger.” He crosses his arms smugly, giving Tony a knowing look.

“I don't feel very supported right now. In fact, I'm feeling attacked. This isn't a safe work environment. I'm calling HR,” Tony defends before taking another sip. “Come sit down,” he invites as Peter pulls the bowl of eggs out of the microwave. Peter does as Tony says and sits down at the bar.

“Hate to break it to you, Tones,” Rhodey continues, “but your ego is your downfall. It’s one thing to be confident, it’s another to be overconfident.” Tony scoffs and waves him off dismissively.

“I'm humble!” he counters. Rhodey raises a challenging eyebrow. “Fine, but it’s not my fault I know how great I am. I gotta make sure everyone else does too, which I've done an amazing job at, if I do say so myself.”

“You're unbelievable.” Rhodey shakes his head with a slight smile.

“Yeah, I hear that a lot.” Tony smirks. He couldn't sound more pompous and self-absorbed if he tried. “I bet you're on my side, huh Pete?” Peter glances up at Tony from his eggs and gives him an innocent look.

“Sorry, Mr. Stark. You're the most egocentric person I know.” Peter takes another bite of his eggs as if he didn't say anything. Tony is also the most _selfless_ person Peter knows, but he doesn't need to know that. Rhodey barks out a laugh.

“Man, I like him,” he admits between laughs.

“Et tu, Peter? And to think I made you breakfast!” Tony feigns shock and puts down his mug indignantly.

“Sorry,” Peter repeats, “Colonel Rhodes is spot on. And the eggs are a bit bland.” He shrugs.

“Oh yeah? Keep talkin’ like that and I'll make you take an Uber home,” Tony jokingly threatens.

“I never went to oovoo javer,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice suddenly cuts in. The unexpected quote almost makes Peter choke on his eggs. He didn't expect a reference this early, but it's a promising start. Tony looks up and narrows his eyes in confusion.

“What’d she say?” Rhodey asks. He seems just as confused as Tony blinks at F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s unexpected comment.

“Hm, maybe she needs a lil’ tweaking. I'll deal with it later. Right now,” Tony pulls something out of his pocket, “we’re gonna have some downtime.” He sets it down on the counter and Peter’s eyes widen.

“You're, you're serious? You wanna?!” Peter doesn't even try to hold back his excitement. This only causes Tony to smirk.

“Poker or Blackjack?” Tony offers. Peter quickly slides his empty plate out of the way, staring at the deck of cards.

“Blackjack, for sure!” he answers enthusiastically, his leg bouncing in anticipation.

“Care to deal us in?” Tony asks as he tosses the deck to Rhodey.

“Putting me to work on a weekend?” Rhodey challenges, but starts to shuffle the deck of cards nonetheless.

“What are we gonna use as betting chips?” Peter asks eagerly. Tony shrugs nonchalantly and pulls out his wallet.

“We could just use money. Or we could use my credit ca-”

“No!” Peter shoves Tony’s hand back and shakes his head vigorously. “We can use…gummy bears!” Peter runs into the kitchen and pulls out a bag of gummy bears from the cabinet.

“Why would we use those?” Tony questions skeptically.

“You can't eat credit cards, Mr. Stark,” Peter says as if it’s blatantly obvious. He eats a gummy bear to prove his point and sits back down in front of Tony. Tony just rolls his eyes as Rhodey begins to deal out the cards.

The first card that’s placed in front of Tony is a two of clubs. Then, Peter is given his first card, which is a five of spades, before Rhodey places a card face down in front of himself. The next card given to Tony is a two of diamonds. This is where the fun starts, in Peter’s opinion. Counting cards. _Running count so far is two._ The card Peter gets is an ace. _Running count is still two._ Rhodey gives himself another card; a four. _That’s a plus one card, so our running count is two._ Cards two through six are plus one, seven through nine are neutral, and ten through ace are minus one. The higher the running count, the better the odds are for Peter.

“Hit me,” Tony says immediately. Rhodey gives him another card faceup, which is a five. _Running count is three,_ Peter notes. Since Peter has an ace, which can be a one or an eleven, he has a lower risk if he takes another card.

“Hit me,” he also says. He gets dealt a nine, so he’ll count my ace as a one. _Running count is still three._ Tony has a nine right now, so he has no risk for taking another card, but Peter does.

“Hit me,” Tony repeats. The card he gets this time is a seven. _Neutral. Crap, he’s up to sixteen._ Peter takes a steady breath.

“Hit me.” Rhodey flips over a four. _Running count is four._ Peter has nineteen and Tony has sixteen. “I’ll stay.”

“Hit me,” Tony says nonchalantly. Rhodey gives him another card, it being an eight. Tony went over twenty-one, so he busts.

“Remember that thing I said about being overconfident?” Rhodey questions with a sly smile. Tony just rolls his eyes as Rhodey flips over his first card to reveal a four. He has thirteen. _Running count is five._ Rhodey has to keep dealing himself until he reaches seventeen or goes over twenty-one. He flips over another card, a five. That’s eighteen for Rhodey, which means Peter was closest to twenty-one.

“Sweet!” Peter laughs as Rhodey takes away some of Tony's gummy bears and gives Peter his winnings.

“Don't get too cocky, kid,” Tony warns.

“Yeah, wouldn't want to be too much like you,” Peter teases with a confident smile.

“Watch yourself,” Tony says without any heat, causing Peter to chuckle. A risky idea makes its way into his head, but Peter isn't one to back down.

“Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y., Mr. Stark isn't being very nice.” _Mr. Stark is going to kill me, but it’s going to be worth it._

“I can't believe you've done this,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice echoes. Peter has to hold back a laugh by pressing his lips together. Tony glances between Rhodey and Peter in confusion. Rhodey simply shrugs his shoulders.

“You okay, Fri?” Tony asks hesitantly.

“I have osteoporosis,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. answers casually. _Oh my god this is gold._

“You don't have a _back.”_ Tony counters incredulously.

“That isn't a nice thing to point out, Boss. I thought you were bae. Turns out you were just fam.” That sends Peter into a fit of laughter, clutching his stomach as he tries to keep himself from falling off the barstool. Tony’s accusing eyes lock onto Peter.

“What did you do?” Tony demands.

“Oh nothing, Mr. Stark,” Peter says in between uncontrollable giggles.

“Karma hits _hard,_ ” Rhodey snickers.

“Boss-” F.R.I.D.A.Y. starts, but instantly gets cut off.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., I swear to all that is _holy_ if you say one more crazy reference I'm reprogramming you,” Tony threatens.

“I'm a bad bitch. You can't kill me, Boss,” she retorts. Her response only makes Peter laugh harder, Rhodey joining him, as Tony stares up in horror.

 _“F.R.I.D.A.Y.!_ Language!” he scolds.

“Sorry, Boss.” She sounds anything but apologetic and it’s the best thing Peter has ever experienced. Tony rubs his forehead until Rhodey and Peter gradually stop laughing.

“Just tell me what happened,” Tony says in exasperation.

“Alright. So, I was sitting there…” F.R.I.D.A.Y. pauses. There’s a beat of silence. If she’s going with this where Peter thinks she’s going… “Barbecue sauce on my titties.” It’s enough to send Rhodey and Peter back into hysterical laughter. Tony turns to Peter with a pointed look.

“You're going to _fix_ her or you're grounded.” Tony points a commanding finger at him, but Peter can't find it in himself to care.

“The Boss yeeteth and the Boss yoinketh away,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says regretfully.

“What does that even _mean,”_ Tony questions as he rubs his hands over his face.

“You’d know if you had listened to me last night.” Peter smirk at Tony, only earning him a groan in response.

“Kid got you good,” Rhodey says smugly. He’s just as amused as Peter is and offers the kid a fistbump, which Peter returns without hesitation.

“You’re the bane of my existence,” Tony grumbles.

“Which one of us?” Peter asks with a grin.

 _“Both of you.”_ Tony lifts his head to give them his own smirk accompanied by narrowed eyes. “Payback’s a bitch, so you better watch your backs.”

“Language, Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. mimics Tony’s words.

“Alright, I'm kicking you all out. I want you all out of my tower. Get. Scram.” Tony shoos them with his hand before eating one of his gummy bears.

“Ready for round two?” Peter challenges anyways and Rhodey starts dealing the cards.

“Get ready for my comeback, kid. Underdogs are a crowd favorite.” Tony straightens up and prepares for the next round. This might be the best day of Peter’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ❤🧡💛💚💙💜 Let me know some of your favorite all time Vines ;)
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	25. Practice Makes Permanent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday everyone!! I hope that you all had a good week :) Another happy, lighthearted chapter for today! I know some of you are looking forward to angst coming back, so don't worry it'll be here soon ;) Officially only 10 more chapters to go!
> 
> No trigger warnings! Enjoy❤🧡💛💚💙💜

When Tony mentions working down in the lab, Peter knows that it means training and he's quick to grab his suit. He brings it in a spare backpack he left behind, so that Rhodey can't see it, and goes to where Tony's waiting in the elevator. It's not that Peter is trying to keep Rhodey out of the loop, he just doesn't want to go around revealing his secret identity. Again. He dumps the packet of gummy bears into his mouth as they ride down to the workshop. Tony continues to keep his arms crossed and rolls his eyes at Peter.

“Yeah, hope you enjoy _my_ gummy bears,” he mutters.

“Not my fault you don't know when to stop betting,” Peter says with his mouth full before swallowing. “You’re lucky you don't go to Vegas or you wouldn't be a billionaire anymore.” Tony scoffs.

“I liked it better when you were too shy to sass me.” All Peter does is give him an innocent smile. The elevator doors open and Tony is the first to walk inside.

“Hi, Boss. Welcome to Chili’s,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice greets as soon as they’re in the workshop. Peter only barely manages to hold back his laughter. Tony, on the other hand, holds his head in his hands in exasperation.

“I distinctly remember telling you to fix her.” He gives Peter a pointed look.

“She isn't broken,” Peter counters. “If anything, it’s like she got an upgrade!” He slips his mask on his head and blinks his mechanical eyes to adjust to the light of his interface. Almost as soon as he puts it on, he feels it being pulled back over his head. “Mr. Stark!” he argues and tries to grab it back.

“Ah ah ah,” Tony holds the mask up, “no training until we catch up on Bubble Brain. I’m not oblivious, I saw the news. So we’re gonna- I said _no mask,”_ he reiterates. Peter huffs and raises a challenging eyebrow. _Does he really think he can hold anything out of my reach?_ Peter shoots a web and pulls the mask to his hand. There's a beat of silence. “That’s cheating,” Tony scolds and points an accusing finger at him.

“That's what sore losers say. What part do you wanna talk about?” Peter sits on the corner of a workbench and swings his legs back forth.

“How the fight with Mysterio at Grand Central went. Why can't you sit in a chair like a normal…Spider-Person?” Tony impatiently questions with a judgemental look.

“I mean, if you really want me to act like a normal spider I can just…” Peter uses the table as a platform to jump up and stick to the ceiling instead.

 _“Really?”_ Tony raises both his eyebrows expectantly. Peter crouches on the ceiling and flashes him a smile. “Fine! Stay up there! I don't care, as long as you talk.” Tony crosses his arms and faces away from Peter with a disinterested sniff.

“Okay, so-”

“Get your ass down here before you fall,” Tony immediately interrupts, turning to face Peter again.

“Language,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. cuts in before Peter can respond.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., you're on thin _fucking_ ice. Kid, get down,” Tony orders again.

“But you just said I could st-”

“I know what I just said. I'm the one who said it. _Now_ I'm saying to get down before you crack your head open.”

“I'm not gonna crack my head open! I'm Spider-Man, remember?” Peter gestures to himself, his hair flopping down towards the floor with his movement. “Spider-Man doesn't just fall!” Tony looks unfazed and shakes his head.

“You're not in your suit. No sitting on the ceiling. New rule. Just made it up. ‘Cause grownups like me get to make the rules.” Peter huffs, knowing he won't win this argument, and gracefully drops back to the floor.

“There, happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Tony deadpans. “Now,” he gestures vaguely to the air, “speak.” Peter thinks this is what people mean when they say Tony's people skills aren't exactly up to par.

“I’d say it actually went pretty good,” Peter answers honestly. “He fooled the police with an illusion, so it was hard to get them to cooperate. Like, at all. But when I fought Mysterio, I used our training! For the most part! He had a whole bunch of these illusions of himself, like he did when we were on the roof, but I had to fight them all! Obviously I didn't _actually_ fight them 'cause I could tell which were illusions. They caught me off guard a couple times, though. I still think the training really helped! But, uh, then he said he knows what my weakness is.” He pauses to see if Tony is still listening to his quick paced words. Surprisingly, Tony is staring intently.

“Raid?” he supplies when Peter doesn't continue.

“No,” Peter denies confidently with a chuckle. _There's no way bug spray can affect me._ Then his eyes widen. “But I haven't tested it-”

“Peter.”

“Right, sorry. He thinks that since I won't let anyone get hurt, it's my biggest weakness or something. As if all superheroes don't try to save everyone. But he…he tried to hurt a little girl. I was able to make it to her before the concrete fell on her, but what if I wasn't fast enough? Or, or if I let the thought of everything collapsing freak me out? I didn't realize she was deaf and she just looked so _scared,_ Mr. Stark.” Peter tightly presses his lips together and looks down. _What if I freak out when it matters the most?_

“Is she the reason you want to learn sign language?” Tony inquires with a raised eyebrow. Peter is instantly surprised that Tony listened to what he had said.

“Maybe,” Peter mumbles. He hears Tony sigh. The man takes a few steps forward before he awkwardly places his hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“Look, kid, doing what we do is never easy. All we can ever do is our best and sometimes our best still doesn't save everyone. But that isn't your fault. It's _never_ your fault. You're not the one who puts these people in danger. Bad people are always gonna be out there, but that's why you're here to look out for the little guy. So cool it on the self-doubt, capisce?” Peter reluctantly looks up at Tony, but nods nonetheless. Tony looks away and pats Peter twice on the shoulder. “Good. Now,” he walks up the holographic interface with the controls for Peter’s training, “we have some catching up to do.” Buddie rolls out of his hiding place and the familiar onslaught of robot holograms fade into existence.

“I missed Buddie, but I didn't miss his friends,” Peter laughs nervously. A blade extend from Buddie’s arm. “Or his knife.”

Peter is quick to change into his suit and pulls the mask over his head while he walks back into the main workshop. He shakes out his arms and legs. _So much for a warm up._

“Ready?” Tony asks.

“Ready!” Peter lowers into a fighting stance to prepare for the rush of holographic robots. They spend the next couple of hours training, Peter trying to trust his Spidey Sense and Tony dropping constructive criticisms at the most opportune times. Peter can't help but flinch or react whenever a bot charges seemingly out of nowhere. After hours of his brain reacting without his Spidey Sense, his senses start ping when there isn't even a _fake_ bot there.

“You’re letting yourself get paranoid.” Peter jumps at Tony’s sudden comment, momentarily stealing his attention long enough for Buddie to take a swipe at his abdomen. With a surprised yelp, Peter jumps away from Buddie as fast as his legs let him.

“I'm not paranoid!” Peter counters, losing Buddie in the crowd of robots again. _Maybe I'm a bit on edge._ Suddenly something bounces off the back of his head, catching him off guard. “Hey!” He grabs the back of his head and sees a wad of paper on the ground. “Did you seriously just throw that at me?!”

“See, you should've easily caught that. You were _overthinking_ and now your spider senses are out of whack. Stop second guessing yourself,” Tony orders, ignoring Peter’s question. Peter is about to respond when his feet are taken out from under him by Buddie. “And focus.” Peter groans and jumps back to his feet before turning to face Tony.

“Mr. Stark, I can't focus on my Spidey Sense if you're trying to have a conversation with me.” Tony scoffs and crosses his arms.

“You say that like your schtick _isn't_ talking your enemies to death with bad one-liners.” Peter gasps overdramatically, placing a hand over his heart as his mechanical lenses blink.

“I have great banter! I mean, I always make myself laugh and that's all that matters.”

“Sure, kid,” he says noncommittally with an eye roll.

“If you can't laugh at yourself, what can you laugh at?”

“Other people.” Tony raises a challenging eyebrow as if daring Peter to prove him wrong. When Peter doesn't argue, Tony shuts down the simulation and all the holograms disappear. Buddie stops in his tracks and slumps as he deactivates. “Maybe we should take a break. We’ll get some food in you then get back to it.”

“He need some _milk,”_ F.R.I.D.A.Y. interjects again. Tony slowly closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“One more reference and I mute you for the rest of the weekend,” he threatens.

“I don't need milk, even though that's a great Vine, and I don't need a break. Superheroes don't take breaks! And neither will Mysterio! I’ve gotta be ready for the next time he attacks. That means nailing this so he can't trick me anymore.” Peter pulls his mask off and rubs his face. His slightly curly hair is damp and sticks to his forehead from the sweat.

“You can't force these things either, Underoos. These kinda things take a few goes, it doesn't happen overnight. You need a healthy balance and whatnot,” Tony counters dismissively. Peter sighs, but then perks up when an idea makes its way into his head.

“Have you seen that really old movie _A New Hope?”_ Tony stares at Peter with narrowed eyes and his lips slightly parted. He stares in disbelief for a few moments before asking,

“Do you hear the words that come out of your mouth?”

“Seriously, Mr. Stark, think about it!” Peter takes a step closer to Tony with a wide smile on his face and his mask in his hands. “Y’know that thing where Luke Skywalker is training for how to use the Force and that Obi Wan dude puts that helmet over his face so he can't see?!” he rambles excitedly.

“So…you want me to blindfold you?” Tony questions skeptically. Peter points at him in affirmation.

“Exactly! That way my eyes can't trick my Spidey Sense! Then we can try it without the blindfold!” Tony is skeptical, but humors Peter nonetheless.

“Fine, we can try it. But if you end up webbing yourself to the ceiling, don't be mad when I take pictures instead of helping you.” He turns the holograms back on and gestures for Peter to slip his mask on again. Confused, Peter does as Tony says and watches as his interface come online. “Karen, lights out.” Tony claps twice and suddenly Peter’s lenses close of their own accord, leaving only his vision completely obscured.

“Woah! This is both awesome and disconcerting at the same time.” It feels weird to be able to blink but not see anything or hear his lenses adjust.

“Yep. Just like The Clapper. Back to business, Underoos.”

“Y'know, we could've turned out the lights so you would be in the dark with me,” Peter teases.

“Can't critique you if I can't see you. Focus,” Tony reiterates. Peter takes a steadying breath and focuses on his senses. Obviously, without his sight, it's easier to ignore the fake robots, but it means he has to focus more intently on his other senses. This especially includes his hearing. He tries to block out the background noises and listens for even the smallest indication of Buddie.

After a moment, Peter hears a low hum coming towards him and his Spidey Sense begins to buzz. He shoots a web to where he knows the far wall is and pulls himself out of Buddie’s path. He lands in a wide, stable stance, ready for any other oncoming attacks. It doesn't take long for his Spidey Sense to ping again, but he's quick to react. He flips over the rapidly approaching Buddie on instinct and uses his Rapid Fire Webs to stick Buddie to the floor. That should keep Buddie from getting away. Peter pulls the mask off to admire his work.

“Ha! See, Mr. Stark! My Spidey Sense _is_ working!” He proudly puts his hands on his hips. Buddie juts in place, trying to break free, until he starts to smoke. “Um, is he, is he supposed to do that?” Buddie suddenly combusts into a small fire.

“Shit,” Tony mutters and is about to move when Dum-E rushes over to them with a fire extinguisher.

“Oh, that's nifty,” Peter notes optimistically.

“Dum-E, don't you _dare_ or I swear to-” Dum-E interrupts Tony and starts spraying not just Buddie, but all three of them in a steady stream of sodium bicarbonate foam. Peter slowly brings a hand up to wipe the foam from his face and flings it off to the side. _I should've kept my mask on._ Tony carefully removes his sunglasses, revealing the only bare skin left on his face without foam on it. Peter hopes that he isn't going to be the one to clean it all up. Tony’s eyes make their way to Peter’s.

“Don't tell Pepper,” Tony says slowly. Peter nods in agreement.

“Don't tell me what?” Pepper’s patient voice sounds from the elevator.

“Nothing!” both Tony and Peter say in unison, but they can't exactly hide the fact that they're covered from head to toe in foam.

“Looks like you boys have been having fun.” Pepper smirks and crosses her arms, taking in the scene.

“Well, um, y’see, we were just training like Luke Skywalker and…might've made a robot burst into flames?” Peter explains lamely.

“Next time let me do the explaining, kid.” Tony gives Peter a pointed look.

“Luke Skywalker, huh?” Pepper inquires, maintaining her smirk. Peter wonders what kind of things Tony has pulled in the past for her to seem so unfazed by this. “Get cleaned up. Rhodey ordered dinner and I have tea going.” _She’s a tea person?_

“It doesn't matter how many times you make that dirty leaf water, you aren't converting me,” Tony argues stubbornly.

“I don't like it either, but it’s better than that dirty bean water. You need to cut down on the caffeine and tea is good for you, whether you like it or not,” Pepper says with a tone of finality. _So that’s why she drinks tea, to make Mr. Stark drink it too._

“Fine, snack time.” Tony nonchalantly wipes the lenses of his glasses and puts them back on.

“Um, Ms.-, uh, Pepper?” Peter speaks up hesitantly. Pepper turns her patient gaze on him. “Can I have a shower?” Peter tries to keep the foam from sliding off his fingers and plopping onto the floor.

“Of course. You have one in your room. Hopefully, Tony will follow in your footsteps.” Pepper gives Tony a pointed look, but he's already walking to the elevator.

“I don't follow in _anyone’s_ footsteps,” Tony says smugly. Pepper and Peter look to each other and Peter tilts his head.

“He’s always been like this, don't worry.” She winks, causing Peter to smile in return. Peter presses the spider emblem on his suit and it loosens.

“Colonel Rhodes doesn't exactly know about my leading a double life thing, so…can we put this in the washer and I change into my normal teenager clothes?” Pepper nods and Peter rushes off to remove his suit in privacy, but his head and shoulders are still covered in foam.

When he gets back, they both get into the elevator and as they’re going up, Tony announces,

“I'm tapping out. Pep, keep an eye on Little Einstein while I'm gone. Help him to the bathroom without staining the carpet.” The doors open and Tony carefully makes his way to his bedroom.

“Do I even want to know?” Rhodey asks while looking over the back of the couch.

“Dum-E was trigger-happy with the fire extinguisher,” Pepper supplies. Peter gives Rhodey a tight-lipped smile and a thumbs up. Rhodey laughs as he takes in Peter’s appearance.

“It looks like Frosty the Snowman threw up on you.” He turns back to the TV and Pepper carefully guides Peter out into the open space.

“I _feel_ like Frosty the Snowman threw up on me,” Peter agrees.

“Told Tony to go easy on you in the workshop,” Rhodey says with a chuckle.

“He doesn't need to go easy on me! I'm-” Peter quickly clears his throat. He almost said he's Spider-Man. _Oops. This is why I shouldn't be allowed to keep secrets._ “I'm sixteen. Fully capable of taking care of myself. I'm almost an adult,” he defends meekly.

“If you have to use the word ‘almost,’ then you're still too young,” Rhodey easily counters, keeping his attention on the TV. When Peter and Pepper make it to his room, her trailing closely behind him, Peter turns to her instead of going in.

“Um, Pepper?” She seems slightly taken off guard, but her surprise quickly turns into concern.

“Yeah?”

“Do you…do you think Mr. Stark just sees me as a kid instead of, like, an equal?” She looks at Peter for a few painstakingly long moments.

“I think,” she starts, “that Tony is so protective of you because he doesn't want anything happening to you. Trust me, Rhodey and I both get our fair share of the same treatment.”

“But he's constantly telling me what not to do and saying how he's the grownup and I'm the kid. It's not like I'm incapable of handling things. I already proved that,” Peter mumbles shyly. Pepper sighs fondly and smiles in a way that distantly reminds Peter of May.

“He does it because he cares and wants to keep you grounded so you know you aren't invincible. You're younger, so I think it scares him a bit more. I'm sure you know how much he sucks at conveying emotion.” She gives him a knowing look and Peter nods with a slight smile.

“Are you sure that's all it is?” Peter asks hesitantly, just to make sure.

“Oh believe me, Peter, when he talks about you, he looks like he hung all the stars in the sky just for you.” Pepper’s genuine, heartwarming smile is enough to convince him. “Go get washed up so you can be out here to keep him in line,” she teases. Peter confidently returns her smile.

“Thanks, Pepper.”

“Anytime, kid.” Peter leaves to take a quick shower, happily washing off all of the sodium bicarbonate foam, and puts on some comfortable sweats. He knows that he now has a full closet full of brand new clothes, but it just feels weird using what Tony paid for. He walks back out into the living area to see Tony, string cheese in hand, and Rhodey sitting on the couch.

“Hey, kid. There's food in the fridge,” Tony calls out before taking a bite out of his string cheese. Peter cringes. Tony took a _bite_ out of his _string cheese_. Do you see the problem?

“Mr. Stark, I hate to break it to you, but that's not how you eat string cheese. I'm pretty sure that's illegal,” Peter informs matter-of-factly. Tony looks up at him, then down to his string cheese before taking another bite. _The audacity._

“I've been telling him the same thing for years.” Rhodey waves Peter off.

“Two bros, chilling on the sofa, five feet apart ‘cause they're not gay,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. once again comes in with a perfectly timed reference and Peter can't help laughing. Tony and Rhodey both shoot up from the couch, walking in opposite directions. Rhodey stands in front of the TV and Tony goes to sit at the bar.

“What do these sayings even _mean?_ How is this entertaining to you? They aren't funny in the slightest,” Tony huffs and takes another bite of his cheese.

“What do you mean? It's hilarious! It's literally the best thing ever!” Peter immediately defends.

“Well I'm so glad you're getting a kick out of it,” Tony responds sarcastically. “I might be loopy on too much string cheese _but,”_ he takes another bite, “that's not the point. As soon as I get down to the lab, I'm reprogramming her since you obviously won't fix her.”

“What the _expletive,_ Richard?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. cuts in, sounding convincingly offended.

“At least you did something useful and censored yourself,” Tony mutters.

“What did you say?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. inquires calmly. “What the _expletive_ is up, Kyle? No, what’d you _say?_ What the _expletive,_ Boss? Step the _expletive_ up!” The quote only makes Peter double over laughing and he wishes he could record it. Tony finishes off his string cheese while shaking his head in disapproval.

“At this rate, you two are gonna give me a damn stroke.” He throws his wrapper into the garbage and Peter knows exactly what's coming.

“This _expletive_ empty, yeet!” F.R.I.D.A.Y. quotes. _Perfection. True perfection._ Tony rubs his temples as Peter plops down in the barstool next to him with a smile.

“Hey, Mr. Stark?”

“God help me, what do you want?” Tony groans, continuing to rub his forehead.

“Can my best friend come over tomorrow? I've been promising him that I’d introduce you two eventually.” Peter asks innocently. Tony glances up at Peter, his eyes narrowed and obviously annoyed.

“Ted? Sure, if he keeps you out of my hair for a few hours then he can come.” Peter’s smile widens. “But no flash photography. And if you sell pictures to your friends, I'll sue you,” Tony adds.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Stark! He's gonna love it! You're the best!” He scoffs at Peter’s enthusiasm, but Peter manages to see a hint of a smile hidden by his arms.

“I aim to please,” Tony concurs. Peter knows Ned is going to absolutely flip out when he hears about this. Now that Tony actually said that he can come over, Ned can't back out! Peter wonders if MJ would want to come over too? He should probably text them as a heads up. That’d be the smart, responsible thing to do. But first, food!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm excited for next Wednesday :)
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	26. Irondad’s Daycare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> itS WEDNESDAY MY DUDES!!!!! (thank you OHHYEAHHHHH for that comment) Get ready for another Vine filled chapter! We also have a bit more emotion this update, so it isn't completely fluff oriented :) Thank you as always for all the support, it really means a lot!
> 
> No trigger warnings, just have fun and stay safe!❤🧡💛💚💙💜

After spending the rest of Saturday training in the workshop and reciting Vine references, the idea of spending Sunday by introducing Ned and MJ to Tony is enough to make Peter want to bounce off the walls. Peter practically leaps out of bed Sunday morning, which catches Tony by surprise, and hurries into the kitchen to eat breakfast.

“You're up surprisingly early. I didn't think it was possible for teenagers to be up before noon on the weekends,” Tony chastises. There isn't anyone else in the penthouse besides the two, as opposed to yesterday when there were at least three people at any given time. Peter notes how nice it is to have the penthouse relatively peaceful.

“I wanted to be ready for when Ned and MJ come over!” he quickly explains as he pours himself a bowl of cereal. He sits and eats his cereal at the counter as Tony eyes his rushed movements.

“Alright, alright, just slow it down a bit. You just got out of the Medbay, I don't wanna have to take you back because you decided to choke on your Wheaties,” Tony reminds with a stern hint to his voice. He really doesn't want to relive seeing Peter on a gurney anytime soon. Or ever. Ever is good. “Wait, did you just say _two_ people are coming? I only agreed to one. I can only handle so much prepubescence in one place,” he adds, somewhat serious.

“Don't worry, Mr. Stark!” Peter assures with a full mouth. “You'll barely know MJ is there. Unless she decides to interrogate you. It's usually a fifty-fifty shot. And Ned will only freak out for about the first half hour, then he’ll stop squealing.” Tony rubs his forehead. When he decided to start spending more time with the kid, he didn't expect it to turn into a babysitting gig.

“Fine. But if they break anything, they buy it,” he says with zero intention of enforcing it. Peter could burn down the entire Tower and Tony would consider paying _him_. He figures he owes it to the kid. Still, hell would freeze over before he'd ever admit it.

“We won't break anything, honest. You’ll barely know we're here!” Peter knows for a fact that Tony will _definitely_ know they're there. MJ will bombard Tony with ethical questions and Ned will burst everyone’s eardrums with his fanboyish screams. It’ll be a long, eventful day, but Peter can't wait.

“Somehow I highly doubt that,” Tony grumbles. Peter sits at the bar once he has finished his quick breakfast. “Thirsty? Whiskey?” Tony offers with the playful rise of his eyebrow. Peter rolls his eyes, but can't keep that smile off his face.

“May would kill you.” Tony snorts.

“She’d kill you and me both, kid,” he counters, taking a sip of his coffee. Peter stalls, raising an eyebrow.

“How much coffee do you drink?” he asks curiously. Tony responds without lifting his eyes away from his Stark Phone,

“Five. Maybe six if I have to get work done.” Peter's eyes slowly widen.

“Mr. Stark that's so insanely unhealthy. Like, that amount of coffee and caffeine can cause insomnia and-”

“That's kind of the point, kid,” Tony hums.

“No, it's not good! Too much can make you more irritable and you hear things that aren't there and you get anxiety, like bad anxiety! And, and _glaucoma_ and _irritable bowel syndrome_ and _osteoporosis_ and _heart disease_ and-”

“Pete, the amount of pure stress that's radiating off of you is going to make _me_ stressed,” Tony interrupts Peter’s anxious rambling. “Relax, I'm not gonna keel over because of some measly coffee.” Peter wants to keep proving his point, but decides not to since Tony will have to deal with three teenagers soon. He deserves his coffee for now. Peter just doesn't want him to have anymore health issues. Tony already has a heart condition and PTSD, Peter doesn't think he could handle much else coupled with Iron Man. If anything happened to Tony, Peter wouldn't- “What on Earth are you overthinking about now?” Tony inquires with slight exasperation. He has given up on trying to get Peter to stop overthinking altogether.

“Hm?” Peter perks up. “Oh! Um, do you ever think about how the brain named itself?” Tony stares at the kid, slowly lowering his mug and setting it down on the countertop.

“Lord help me if your friends are anything like you.” Peter smiles proudly as he says,

“They’re exactly like me. Well, Ned is. I'm sure you’ll really appreciate MJ’s company.” Peter smirks ever so slightly and crosses his arms confidently. Tony raises an eyebrow.

“Oh really? Can't wait,” he says with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. “What time are they coming over?”

“Around noon?” Peter answers with uncertainty. MJ will probably be extremely punctually. Ned…not so much. He tends to lose track of time when he's frantic.

“Lucky me, I get to feed three ravenous teens. One of which has a metabolism that’s only bested by Cap,” Tony gripes as he stands. He types on his phone, giving it his full attention. “You guys want pizza? Chinese? Shawarma? _Larb,_ since I've heard you like it some much?” he suggests. Peter smiles faintly. _He remembered the larb story._

“Pizza’s good. Thanks, Mr. Stark.” Tony hums in response as he orders a few pizzas. Peter goes through Tony’s words in his head. Tony seems to be better with mentioning Captain America, but he never talks about what happened. Probably for good reason, but Peter’s curiosity starts to eat away at him. Isn't Tony always the one telling him to talk about how he feels? Otherwise he won't get any better? “Can I ask you something?” Peter breaks the brief silence. Tony sighs, mentally readying himself for his question.

“Shoot.”

“What, um, what happened between you and Captain America? Like, I know you guys didn't agree on the accords but…he’s your friend.” Peter tries his best to put his thoughts into words. If he and Ned were to get into an argument, they’d find a way to work it out no matter what. He wouldn't let it escalate to _literally_ fighting Ned, especially in a different country. Tony tenses, his typing momentarily halted. He supposes that he’ll have to talk to the kid about it sooner or later. Well, not all of it.

“He…we…” he sighs, rubbing his forehead, “it’s complicated.” Peter waits patiently with his eyes unwavering on Tony. “We didn't agree about a lot of things, the accords included obviously. Things were worked out, for lack of a better term, and we went back to cooperating for all of two seconds.” Tony crosses his arms protectively over his chest. They block the light of his arc reactor from meeting Peter’s eyes. “Cap’s friend…did something and it’s something I just can't forgive. And he hid it from me. They both did. My trust was broken. It’s hard to get past something like that.” Tony tries to keep his voice as light as possible, considering the heavy subject. Still, he keeps his tone lighthearted for Peter.

“Trust is hard to come by. I'm sorry that happened, Mr. Stark,” Peter genuinely apologizes. “Do you think it was intentional?” He hopes that there wasn't any malicious content. If Ned had done something terrible, Peter would still be there for his best friend. Because no matter what happened, he knows Ned is a good person.

“It seemed pretty intentional.” Tony almost snaps, but keeps his temper under control. “You’re supposed to be able to trust your team. No matter what. Teams can't function without it. But...no, the, uh, action on the friend's part wasn't exactly on purpose.” He takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He can't believe this kid has gotten him to talk about Rogers and the Accords even when professional therapists called in by Pepper couldn't get him to talk.

“Do you think you guys will be okay?” Peter asks hesitantly, with obvious hope in his voice. Tony doesn't want to lie to him, because honestly he doesn't think the team will recover. At least not anytime soon. _He_ won't recover. Not after what happened. Still, he finds himself saying,

“Yeah, bud. I do. Eventually.” He’ll be damned if he’s going to be another reason why Peter doesn't have hope in the world. The kid has already seen more than his fair share of trauma, and he's only sixteen. Too young for trauma. “C’mon, let’s order the pizzas and then you have to get dressed. Unless you want to greet Ted and DK in your pajamas.” Peter rolls his eyes with a smile.

“Now you're just messing up their names on purpose,” he catches on. Tony just smirks before they pick out toppings the pizzas and place their order. Peter quickly gets changed in his room and walks out just in time for the elevator doors to reveal MJ. He smiles to her as she inspects the penthouse with impartial eyes.

“Hey, MJ!” he greets enthusiastically. MJ’s curly hair is tied up in a bun and her eyes shift to meet Peter’s.

“Glad to see you're still alive, Parker.” Her tone is monotonous, but the small smile on her lips shows Peter that she’s actually glad to see him. Even if she won't show it. Tony stands from the bar, clearing his throat as he makes his way over to introduce himself.

“Nice to finally meet one of Peter’s friends. I'm-”

“Tony Stark. Yeah. Pleasure. You won't be consuming any alcoholic beverages, will you?” MJ questions with her eyes narrowed. Peter saw this coming, just maybe not this soon. Tony looks back at the bar he just walked from, then to MJ again.

“That would require a bar with alcohol. Mine has none,” he assures. He’s almost getting a sense of déjà vu from when Rhodey drilled him about the exact same thing.

“Good. That would be stupid,” MJ points out before walking the rest of the way to Peter. Tony decides to take it as a compliment.

“MJ!” Peter borderline scolds, but he knows better. MJ shrugs, looking completely unapologetic.

 _“Adam,”_ F.R.I.D.A.Y. mimics Peter’s tone. Peter holds back a laugh and MJ looks up to the ceiling with a raised eyebrow.

“Did the A.I. just make a Vine reference?” MJ inquires, slightly amused.

“Fri, stop shouting random names,” Tony scolds.

“Damn, _Daniel_. Back at it again with the tinted glasses.” Tony gasps indignantly, his eyes wide behind his pink tinted sunglasses. Peter, however, tries to stay on track.

“That's not the point,” he turns to MJ, “you've been here for, like, two seconds and you've already found a way to call a genius stupid,” he huffs. Sometimes he forgets how unusual his friends can be. MJ nonchalantly shrugs her shoulders.

“I didn't call him stupid. I said drinking alcohol would be stupid. Which it would be,” she fires back effortlessly. “Where’s Thing Two?”

“He’ll probably be here soon. You know how he is when he freaks out.” Peter gives her a pointed look and she slowly nods in understanding.

“I hope you gave Stark a heads up,” is all MJ says before sitting on the couch. “Speaking of which, did you ask him my question?”

“What question?” Tony inquires. Peter’s eyes widen.

“No, because I already know the answer! That question is insulting!” he hisses through clenched teeth.

“How do you know the answer when you haven't asked?” MJ challenges. Peter just groans and leans on the couch, knowing he’ll never win any sort of argument against her. “Hey, Stark, do you believe in global warming?” Tony is completely taken aback by the question.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Global warming is a scientific fact. The ice caps aren't melting for their own amusement,” he answers indignantly. MJ smiles slightly. _Here we go,_ Peter thinks dreadfully.

“And what about the ‘historically low temperatures’ recently,” MJ quotes the recent political figures that have opposed the idea of the concept. Tony stares at her dumbfounded, then shifts his eyes to Peter.

“Is she serious?” he asks, jerking his thumb in MJ’s direction. Peter rubs his face and motions for Tony to answer the question. “Global warming and climate change aren't just about the planet getting hotter in temperature. It doesn't matter if there's ‘all-time low temperatures.’ Greenhouse gases, like carbon dioxide, accumulating in the atmosphere soak up and trap solar radiation like a sponge. Climate change, which every single human being _should_ believe in, doesn't have to deal with how damn cold it gets. It's about extreme temperatures. You could have the coldest day in history and still have climate change. Doesn't make a difference. Climate change is extreme lows and highs. The deviation between the two is what's so bad. We’re getting more and more days of drastic high and low temperatures. Happy?” Tony crosses his legs and folds his arms expectantly.

“What’s your opinion on vaccines?” MJ questions instead of answering.

“To _get_ them,” Tony responds as if it’s the only reasonable answer in the world, which to him it is. To Peter, there’s no question about it, but he knows he just has to ride out the questioning. MJ leans back into the couch with a triumphant quirk of her lips.

“You're acceptable,” she approves nonchalantly. Tony scoffs as if he was just insulted, making Peter quietly laugh. Peter's phone starts buzzing wildly in his back pocket. He doesn't need to look at it to immediately knows who it is.

“Ned's freaking out,” he announces while pulling out his phone.

“Already?” MJ seems unimpressed, but not surprised.

“Already,” Peter confirms as he checks the new messages.

 

**_Guy in the Chair_ **

Ned: _peter oh my god im in abengers tower_

Ned: _where do i go from here_

Ned: _i see the elevators you mentioned but theres two really buff guys guarding them_

Ned: _how am i supposed to get passed them????_

Ned: _PETER HELP THEYRE INTIMIDATING AND I DONT HAVE MY HAT OF CONFIDENCE_

Peter: _just say your full name like i told you to_

Peter: _Mr. Stark told them you were coming_

Ned: _I CANT TALK TO THEM PETER_

Peter: _then i guess youre not gonna meet Tony Stark_

Ned: _FSDVCYNDXS_

Ned: _THIS IS BEST FRIEND ABUSE_

 

Peter puts his phone away with a chuckle as Tony asks,

“Is he coming or not?” Peter shrugs as he plops down on one of the barstools.

“If he can manage to get past the security in the lobby,” he informs. MJ snorts, imagining Ned anxiously stammering in front of the two guards that she simply walked past. It isn't long before the elevator doors open again, unveiling a wide eyed Ned. Pure shock has taken over his face as he takes in the decor of the luxurious penthouse. However, when his eyes land on Tony, his eyes go impossibly wider.

“Holy- you're, you're _Tony Stark!”_ Ned exclaims and clambers over to the group lounging by the bar. “It’s so nice to meet you, sir. You have no idea how much of an honor this is.” He nervously shakes Tony’s hand, who smiles. Tony chooses to ignore how… _clammy_ the teen’s hand is.

“I finally get to meet Peter’s partner in crime, hm?” Tony indulges Ned a bit, letting him have his moment.

“Yes sir! That's me! Your suit is amazing, sir. All of them are!” Ned trips over his rushed words. Peter just relishes in his best friend’s obvious excitement. He had hoped that Ned would be over the moon by all this. Looks like he was right.

“You wouldn't be the one to hacked my spidey suit, would you?” Tony asks with a twinge of amusement in his voice. Ned is caught completely off guard and starts to frantically ramble off barely recognizable apologies. “You must be pretty smart,” Tony tags on, causing Ned’s jaw to go slack.

“Thank you so much, sir!” Ned stammers. Peter and MJ exchange a look, knowing that they'll never hear the end of this. But they also know how much this just made Ned’s life. Ned walks up to Peter in a starstruck daze. “Tony Stark just called me smart.” Peter nods with a smile.

“Don't pass out on us, man,” he cautions, only partly serious. Ned takes a steadying breath, then looks to Peter.

“Dude, are you even legally allowed to sit here?” He tilts his head in confusion as if just now noticing that Peter is sitting on a barstool.

“That's what I asked!” Peter exclaims before looking to Tony. “See, Mr. Stark!” Tony raises his eyebrows apathetically.

“Yeah. Shocking,” he agrees, albeit rather unenthused. Peter catches the sarcasm, but chooses to not point it out. Instead, he excitedly pats the stool next to him. Ned immediately accepts the invitation and hops onto the stool.

“This is the best day of my life,” he says breathlessly.

“You're such nerds,” MJ points out from the couch.

“You know you're excited, you just won't admit it,” Peter challenges with a knowing smile. MJ rolls her eyes, but doesn't make any effort to argue.

“What's Captain America like in real life?” Ned asks, his eyes wide with awe. Peter immediately elbows him in the ribs and gives him a pointed look.

“His shield is the size of a dinner plate and he's an idi-” the rest of F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s reference is cut off by laughter, and even Tony cracks a smile.

“Oh my god you actually did it. F.R.I.D.A.Y. just quoted a _Vine!”_ Ned borderline shouts.

“Isn't it great?!” Peter joins in with a wide smile. Tony chooses not to dwell on it.

“Now that we have all that out of the way,” Tony cuts in, “pizza will be here any second and then I’ll give you guys the VIP tour.” Ned starts freaking out all over again at the thought of them getting a special tour of Stark Tower and Peter doesn't even try to calm him down.

“With fr e sh a voca do,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. adds.

“For Christ’s sake…” Tony mutters as Ned slowly turns to Peter with his mouth ajar. Tony rubs his forehead and internally repeats to himself that he's enduring this to make everything up to Peter. He can get through this. Hopefully.

True to Tony’s word, the pizza is there before they know it and MJ meanders her way to sit with the lot of them as they all eat. Ned asks Tony hypothetical question after question about the Iron Man suits, the latest projects, and everything engineering related. MJ throws in a few morality questions here and there, all of which Tony seems to begrudgingly answer to her satisfaction. Peter stays relatively quiet, watching his closest friends have fun. He takes it in, because a voice in the back of his mind pesters him that this happiness won't last.

Tony’s “VIP tour” starts off fairly upfront, starting in the penthouse before going down to the Medbay and so forth. Everything is going well until they reach the workshop.

“And this is where I work on the suits and anything else I decide to spend my time on,” Tony announces as he walks into the workshop with his hands clasped behind his back. Ned bolts into the room, gazing at the tech with a spark in his eye whereas MJ saunters in. Peter sits on his usual stool patiently with his legs criss-crossed.

“So this is where you’ve been spending your time after school, huh?” MJ asks as she walks around.

“Actually, I didn't start coming to the workshop until after Homecoming,” Peter informs, internally cringing at the memory. “But yeah, this is where I train and upgrade the suit.” He smiles proudly. It’s rare when he gets to openly talk about his Spider-Manning with his friends, since he has to be cautious about the possibility of people listening in.

“So, you have F.R.I.D.A.Y. in your suit _and_ the Tower?” Ned asks curiously.

“Yep,” Tony pops the “p” and sits in the stool beside Peter.

“How come you gave Peter his own User Interface?” MJ questions with hint of amusement.

“It would be impractical to have the same U.I. in different suits. Two just makes more sense,” Tony responds with a shrug. “Besides, I don't want to share mine with this rugrat. Right, Fri?” He smugly crosses his arms.

“Well, thanks for checking in, Boss. I'm still a piece of garbage.” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s answer doesn't seem to phase Tony anymore, but it sends both Ned and Peter into a laughing fit. Even MJ chuckles and playfully rolls her eyes at the two.

“I can't decide if I should reprimand you for insulting _yourself_ or _me_ since I made you,” Tony mutters in exasperation. Ned stops laughing long enough to gasp out a strangled,

“I heard the song play in my head.” He devolves into more laughs along with Peter.

“But that's my _opinion…”_ F.R.I.D.A.Y. continues to argue with Tony, dragging out the last word.

“Thank you _so_ much, F.R.I.D.A.Y.. This is the best thing ever,” Peter says between guiltless giggles.

“My pleasure, Peter. Happy to help,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. hums sweetly.

“Now I have _teenagers_ conspiring against me,” Tony grumbles as he stands up.

“I can't believe you don't know any of those references,” MJ speaks up. “Even I know them and I hated Vine.” She makes a disgusted face.

“Give him a break, MJ, it’s not his fault. I think he's adapting pretty well,” Peter gives Tony some credit, offering him a small smile.

“Thank you! Finally some goddamn appreciation,” Tony huffs. Peter’s innocent smile morphs into a sly smirk. _Mr. Stark shouldn't lower his guard._

“For someone who had once seen dinosaurs roam the earth,” Peter adds. Tony’s eyes widen at the unexpected jab and he scoffs.

“Oh yeah? You wanna go there?” he challenges, only succeeding in making Peter laugh all over again. MJ smiles at how close the two have become, even though they don't seem to notice it themselves. “Alright, you and F.R.I.D.A.Y. are both grounded. How ‘bout them apples?” Tony states with utmost confidence. Of course, F.R.I.D.A.Y. adds in her two cents.

“I am disgusted. I am revolted. I dedicate my life to our lord and savior Tony Stark and _this_ is the thanks I get?” she almost demands. Peter and Ned are practically rolling on the floor from laughter and MJ actually has to put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile.

“You're all banned from the Tower,” Tony says without heat. Maybe he's going soft, but there's something about seeing Peter so… _genuinely happy_ that makes him realize that he'd do anything to keep the smile on his face. Which absolutely terrifies him. He cares. He didn't want to actually care, let alone this much. He supposes there's no turning back now, so he just cherishes his brief moment of contentment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the angst we go  
> ٩( ᐛ )و
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	27. Team Spidey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Time to start easing back into what you all seem to be a glutton for...angst! I'll give you time to warm up to it though :) I'm absolutely adoring all the support and welcome to all the new readers!
> 
> QUICK IMPORTANT NOTE: @nathvods on Instagram made fanart of this fic!!! ITS SO GORGEOUS YOU MUST GO LOOK AT IT PLEASE. Plus it's a mini Easter egg hunt!!  
> https://www.instagram.com/nathvods/p/ByvIdBrF_q6/?igshid=scuum1tez0rb
> 
> TW// sleep apnea, sleep paralysis, and mild panic attack.
> 
> Have fun and stay safe!❤🧡💛💚💙💜

At the end of the day, Tony surprisingly offers to drive the kids home instead of calling Happy to do it. Peter rides in the backseat between Ned and MJ, leaving the passenger seat empty. The ride is full of backseat chatter from the teens, so much so that they don't catch Tony’s slight smile. Ned is the first to be dropped off, then MJ at her house. When MJ leaves the car, Peter moves up to the passenger seat to sit next to Tony. Peter's action is partly second nature, since he usually sits up front with Happy, but the other part of Peter worries Tony will feel uncomfortable. He figures Tony doesn't mind when the man simply pulls away from the curb and starts their drive the apartment.

The ride to Peter’s apartment is spent in a semi-comfortable silence. Tony tries to find a subject to talk about or just absolutely anything to break the silence, but comes up empty. What do teenagers even talk about nowadays? It's not like he can whip out any _Vines_ on command. Peter stares out the window, watching the light of the streetlamps as they speed past. He has one headphone in, just in case Tony initiates a conversation. It isn't until the car slows to a stop outside the apartment complex that Peter decides to speak up.

“Thank you for having me, Mr. Stark,” he says politely.

“Sure, kid. Not a problem.” Tony nods, parking the car. He's not quite sure why he parked, since he isn't going inside, but he does nonetheless.

“I, um, I appreciate it. Y’know, everything that we did this weekend,” Peter admits sheepishly as he stares at his fidgeting hands. Tony sighs, noticing how nervous Peter is. He swears this kid is making him way too soft for comfort. Regardless, he gets out of the car and walks to the other side to open the door for Peter. “Mr. Stark?” Peter asks as he cautiously steps out of the car. Tony ignores his confusion and avoids eye contact as he places a firm, hopefully comforting, hand on Peter’s shoulder. Peter is shocked into silence.

“If you ever need anything, or you're having a bad day, shoot Happy a text and he’ll bring you to the workshop. M’kay?” Tony tries to keep it as nonchalant as possible, but he knows the weight of his words. He’s giving a high school kid, an insanely smart one, free range to his multi-million dollar workshop. He can't try to deny it anymore. He cares about Peter, the endearing little shit. Against his better judgment, he looks to the teen, whose head is lowered.

“Oh, I, uh,” Peter stammers, keeping his eyes on his shoes. He has never been good with words. Instead, he glances up only to see Tony looking down at him. Something about Tony’s honest tone and unwavering eyes makes every coherent thought in Peter’s mind disappear.

“Kid-” Peter finds his arms wrapping around Tony’s torso and his head tucked against his mentor’s chest. Tony stands in a mix of shock and disbelief, his arms hovering awkwardly over Peter. Does he hug back? Does he laugh it off? Does he leave?

“You don't have to hug back, Mr. Stark. I know we aren't there yet. I just…thanks,” Peter mumbles his gratitude against Tony’s sweatshirt, almost afraid to look at the man’s reaction. He’s ready to pull away when Tony’s gentle, hesitant arms return the hug.

“We’re there, Peter,” Tony affirms softly. He rests his chin on the top of Peter’s head. It takes every ounce of Peter’s strength to keep his tears at bay. Instead, he cherishes the feeling of warmth and safety that Tony’s arms provide. “We’re there,” Tony repeats. Peter tightly curls his fingers around the fabric of Tony’s sweatshirt. He doesn't want it to get uncomfortable, so Peter lets go and Tony clears his throat.

“Good night,” Peter says with a smile as he feels his face flush.

“Sleep tight.” Tony sniffs nonchalantly, as if nothing happened, and waits until Peter is inside before getting back into his car.

Peter skips several steps as he energetically climbs the seven flights of stairs to his apartment.

“Hey, May!” he calls once he enters the apartment. He quickly finds May in their small living room, reading yet another book. May looks up and removes her reading glasses.

“Hey, troublemaker. How was your weekend with Tony?” Peter raises a curious eyebrow with a hint of a smile.

“Oh, now you're on a first name basis with him, huh?” he challenges.

“I figured he deserved it since he saved my kid’s life.” May gives him a pointed look, which Peter smiles innocently at.

“It was good,” Peter starts as he falls onto the couch beside his aunt. “He let Ned and MJ come over today which was awesome.” May actually looks a bit caught off guard by the information.

“Well, that was nice of him. A bit out of character,” she teases.

“Right?! Total plot twist,” Peter exaggerates. The two laugh before Peter continues. “Yeah, we did some training on Saturday and I think I’ve gotten a lot better. We figured out how I can focus on my Spidey Sense without throwing it out of whack. Mysterio won't know what hit him!” May chuckles at her nephews enthusiasm and passion regarding his crime-fighting.

“Good, it’d be a bit embarrassing to be beaten by a guy wearing a fishbowl,” she sighs, feigning disappointment. Peter gasps over dramatically and places both hands on his chest.

“He’s tougher than his bubble helmet and purple cape suggest!” he defends confidently.

“Likely excuse,” May counters, unconvinced.

“Speaking of which,” Peter tries to use the subject change to his advantage, “can I patrol after dinner? I haven't gone out all weekend.” Skipping out on patrols, even for Tony Stark, makes him nervous. Every second he's not out there, it risks someone getting hurt. It’s almost dark outside, but there's still a bit of light left.

“How about dinner and an early bedtime? You just got out of the superhero equivalent of a hospital,” May points out.

“But it technically wasn't Spider-Man related.” Peter makes a good counterpoint, but no one changes May’s mind.

“Nice try, but no can do, Squirt. There’s hamburgers in the kitchen.” With a groan, Peter makes his way into the kitchen and dishes up his dinner. He and May spend the rest of the night watching episodes of _Doctor Who_ until May ushers him off to bed to “heal.” As if he isn't already fully healed. Well, he is physically.

It’s 1:18am when Peter wakes up in a cold sweat, gasping and shivering. His chest is tight and he pulls at the collar of his t-shirt in his partly conscious panic. The only thing he can feel is his heart desperately beating to fuel his anxiety stricken body. _Why can't I breathe? What’s going on?!_ He feels like he had a nightmare, but doesn't remember anything. Not a thing. Which only makes it all the more frustrating. He feels like his fight-or-flight reaction was kicked into high gear without a good reason. He can't make his hands cooperate and slowly sits up, in hopes that it’ll get him more air. _Deep breaths, just like Mr. Stark said. Passing out is bad. Just calm down. Stop freaking out. Man, this sucks._

He keeps reassuring himself until his heart rate goes back down to somewhat normal and his breathing sounds less like harsh gasps. His phone displays a discouraging time of 1:32am. Now he’s even more exhausted than when he went to bed, but it gives him all the more reason to flop back down on the bed and bury his face into his pillow. If only it were that easy.

He starts to feel a tightness in his chest spread as his breaths begin to slow uncomfortably. It’s not the same feeling as when he falls asleep. This is different. His breaths slow to complete stop. Then he can't take in anymore air. He can't move. Nothing is cooperating and he can't call out for help. It’s what happened at the Tower all over again, but Tony and Bruce aren't there to help this time. He can't call for May either. _I'm all alone. Please no, I don't want to be alone again._ His eyes snap open and he can somehow force in a breath. For a split second, his movements are sluggish, but he's able to sit up. It felt like his muscles were about to stop working. On instinct, he yanks his Spider-Man mask out of his nearby backpack and fumbles to pull it on.

“Karen?” he asks with a shaky voice.

“Hello, Peter. Shouldn't you be sleeping?” she asks, her tone somewhat concerned. _I would if I could._

“Can, can you, um, check to make sure I'm okay? Vitals?” Peter tries to put a coherent sentence together. He’s not sure if he succeeds, but Karen is able to respond anyways.

“Your blood pressure and heart rate are elevated, but I see no other signs of bodily harm. It seems as though you have just suffered symptoms of sleep paralysis as well as a mild anxiety attack. Do you require assistance from Tony Stark?” If Peter had caught his breath, he would've scoffed. _Not at one in the morning I don't._

“No, I'm okay now. Thanks, Karen.” He takes a long, quivering breath. No problem, right? He got past the worst of it, so now he can just pretend like nothing ever happened.

“Happy to help. It’s common for those who have just experienced sleep paralysis and apnea to not be able to fall back asleep due to the symptoms recurring,” Karen informs regretfully. Peter scoffs, more to himself than at anything else.

“Great,” he mutters, lacking his usual humor. Usually, if he can't sleep, he sneaks out to do some patrol. He might as well be productive if he’s going to practice being an insomniac. However, May explicitly that she didn't want him out patrolling in favor of his recovery, so that's off the table. He can't betray her trust again, especially after all he has kept from her. Peter still hasn't told her about the extent of what the Vulture did on Homecoming night. A fresh wave of guilt washes over him, but he’s too tired to address it.

He lies in bed for a few hours, talking to Karen and hoping beyond hope that somehow he’ll be able to go back to sleep. It doesn't work. Around 4am, he finally takes off the mask and decides to be productive by getting ahead on homework. His brain is foggy from lack of sleep, but he has dealt with worse before. When it reaches 6:30am, his useless alarm goes off only to serve as a reminder of how little sleep he actually got. He manages to drag himself into the bathroom for a short shower to try to wake himself up. The only thing the shower does is make him never want to get out. Still, he reluctantly leaves the warmth to get dressed.

When he gets to school, Ned and MJ immediately catch on to his distinct lack of energy.

“You don't look like someone who just spent an amazing weekend with Tony Stark,” Ned gently states as the three of them walk inside the school.

“You look like death,” MJ rephrases bluntly. Peter can always count on her to be brutally honest, which he appreciates…just not in the moment.

“Thanks, guys. Really feeling the support.” Peter opens his locker and shoves a textbook inside. “I know I'm gonna sound like a broken record, but I'm just tired. I got, like, two hours of sleep.”

“That’s not healthy,” MJ points out as if Peter didn't already know.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause I chose to be up since one in the morning. My favorite past time,” Peter puts as much sarcasm in his voice as he can. Ned and MJ go through their lockers too as they talk.

“You say that like you _don't_ do that for your spider related activities,” Ned reminds him in a hushed tone. Ned isn't wrong.

“Speaking of patrol,” Peter swiftly changes the subject, “you still want to after school?”

“Of course, you’d be lost without your Guy in the Chair. But are sure you should be patrolling on no sleep?” Ned can never hide the concern in his voice. The thought of arguing only makes Peter more exhausted, so he just nods. “MJ should help us, too. Like a team! Team Spidey!” Ned’s familiar excitement surrounding Spider-Man returns.

“What, you have another suit?” MJ asks with the rise of an eyebrow. Ned’s eyes go wide at the awesome possibility of not just a Spider-Man, but a _Spider-Woman_ too! Peter almost chokes on his surprised breath, but manages to ask in a rasped voice,

“You mean, like, a _suit_ suit?” MJ keeps her unwavering eyes on him. “Um, of course that’s what you meant. What other kinda suit would you be talking about? I’ll see what I can do.” Peter gives her a thumbs up, which seems to satisfy her. Just the thought of MJ or Ned going up against any kind of villain is enough to send Peter into panic.

“Then what would I do instead?” MJ’s voice is monotone and disinterested. Peter swears that she’s the only person in the school that wouldn't care about teaming up with a superhero.

“Hey, I want a suit too!” Ned continues, almost too loud. Peter quickly shushes him and looks around to see if anyone actually heard. Luckily, it looks like no one did.

“You can help Ned out,” Peter explains, ignoring Ned’s request, as they walk to first period. “He’d probably love an extra set of hands. He usually checks police scanners and hacks into stuff.” MJ narrows her eyes in thought, then turns her gaze on Ned.

“So that's why you were in the computer lab during Homecoming watching ‘porn.’” MJ throws up air quotes. Ned frantically tries to quiet her down before Peter hears, but it's too late. Peter clears his throat in a vain attempt to suppress his laughter.

 _“Porn_ is the excuse you came up with?” Peter questions as nonchalantly as possible, but fails to hide his amused smile.

“I _told_ you I'm bad at lying! I've been telling you that for years!” Ned squeaks out his defense. “You don't get to give me a hard time. There's no way you would've tracked your phone without me.” Ned makes a solid point, but it's not enough to stop Peter from laughing.

The school day goes by in a blur of boring lectures and MJ kicking Peter’s chair to keep him from falling asleep. Without MJ and Ned making sure he didn't pass out, Peter would've been asleep as soon as first period. He manages to get a half hour of sleep during lunch, but it costs him a meal. Nothing he isn't used to, but his stomach still protests with growls. As soon as the final bell rings, the group of three are quick to make their way out of the school and towards the subway station. Ned decides that he’ll introduce MJ to his full setup at his house while Peter stays behind to get ready for patrol.

Peter quickly changes into his suit in a nearby alley and watches as the heads-up display flashes to life.

“Good afternoon, Peter,” Karen greets. “How was school?”

“Boring. How's Queens looking? Anything on the news?” Peter gets straight to business, too tired to focus on pleasantries.

“There aren't any signs of significant activity coming from any news or radio stations,” Karen reports. All right, now they just swing around until Ned and MJ get back with updates on the police scanners. Peter patrols Queens and talks to Karen as he waits, not seeing any particular crime aside from an attempted car break-in. Once they saw Spider-Man swing in, however, they ran off as if it would help them get away. Needless to say, Peter handled it with a witty one-liner and a few webs.

Still, his arms feel slightly lethargic from the lack of sleep and it’s hard to keep his eyes open as he swings. His muscles protest, but he easily pushes through the exhaustion. He’s gone longer without sleep than this.

“Hey, Peter!” Once Ned’s connected to the suit, his voice fills Peter’s ears.

“Sup, nerd.” MJ’s voice greets him too. He isn't used to hearing her through the comms, but it's a nice change of pace to have a full team for patrol.

“Hey, guys!” Peter replies. “Just stopped a wannabe car thief. Got anything for me on the scanner? Any word on Mysterio?” It's been way too long since Mysterio made an appearance and it's starting to make Peter paranoid.

“Um…” Ned drags out the word as he types on his computer, “nothing yet. Everything's quiet, but it’s still early.”

“Last online article of Mysterio was when you two fought at Grand Central Station. He hasn't made an appearance since then,” MJ adds, already falling into a rhythm with the small team. Peter continues to swing, simply surveying the area as he flies through the city.

“Alright, I don't know whether to feel relieved or concerned. Okay, uh, Ned can you keep an eye on the news and scanners for me?” Peter asks as he perches on the corner of a building.

“No problem!” Ned quickly assures.

“And MJ, can you search up a guy who has experience with both chemistry and hand-to-hand combat? Also possibly some kind of mid-grade magician, or maybe proficient in special effects, and see who comes up? Probably not positive things, though. It’ll be more like him being fired or arrested or something like that,” Peter tries to explain to the best of his abilities. What sticks out is how Mysterio uses holograms, hallucinogens, and can keep up with Peter’s punches, so that’s what Peter chooses to pinpoint.

“You underestimate me, Parker. I'm on it,” MJ affirms before typing away. With both of his friends helping out, Peter feels significantly less stressed about balancing everything on patrol. He stops a few more minor mishaps as he patrols and the three of them chat, until Ned pics up something.

“Alarm was just tripped at the B.K. Books store on 2109 Borden Avenue,” Ned relays from the scanner. Karen immediately highlights a route on Peter’s HUD, but Peter knows exactly where that bookstore is. It isn't too far from his school, plus he has gone there before with May. Peter adjusts his grip and shifts his momentum to start swinging in the opposite direction.

“Someone's stealing books?” he asks with uncertainty. Isn't it usually a bank or jewelry store?

“I’d do it,” MJ reasons nonchalantly. “Books are expensive, especially textbooks.” She makes a good point. Their textbooks at Midtown cost an arm and a leg.

“People aren't you, MJ,” Ned counters.

“Karen, tap me into the bookstore’s surveillance,” Peter says, staying on topic. He always has to be quick and focused.

“Of course,” Karen responds as a small, blurry window pops up on Peter’s interface. The surveillance is surprisingly in grayscale.

“This place needs to update their security system,” Peter mumbles to himself. There's a man at a register with a handful of books tucked under one arm and a gun in his free hand. Guns are bad. Very bad.

“Careful, man,” Ned warns, looking at the same live footage on MJ’s screen. His nerves spike when he sees the gun.

“Don't worry. I've dealt with worse, remember?” Peter reassures. He has dealt with a lot worse, actually. This should be a piece of cake!

It only takes about a minute to get there, which is pretty fast considering the distance. Peter lands in front of the seven story, brick building labeled at the very top as the Blanchard Building. There isn't really a storefront for the bookstore, just double doors and a sign above them that displays the address. The doors are tinted, so he can only see the vague shapes of bookshelves. The surveillance window on his HUD shows that the criminal is busy grabbing books while the cashier has their hands up.

“Karen,” he whispers as he carefully opens the door, “can you tell 911 the situation?”

“On it,” Karen confirms. Peter slowly shuts the door behind him without making so much as a sound. The cashier, a teen boy who’s hardly older than Peter, discreetly glances to him and back. Peter puts a finger over his own lips to keep the cashier from freaking out and to make sure he stays quiet. With silent movements, Peter hops onto the ceiling and begins to crawl to where the robber is rummaging through books.

As soon as Peter is over the robber, he can see that the robber’s mask is a bright red ski mask. Peter could almost laugh.

“Bringing a gun to steal some books? A little excessive, don't you think?!” Peter questions. He webs the gun and flings it back to smack the robber in the face, causing him to stumble back in shock and drop all the books in the process. “Excuse me, mister, but those aren't yours,” Peter scolds as he webs the gun to the opposite wall. The robber snaps his head up towards Peter’s voice, then curses under his breath.

“Don't be polite to criminals,” MJ cuts in with her reprimanding voice. Peter flips down to the carpeted floor as the robber pulls out a pocket knife.

“Y’know, this isn't the best Spiderman cosplay I've seen,” Peter banters and webs the robber’s knife and pulls it to his hand. “The ski mask isn't very original. It doesn't even look like my mask! Kinda cliché, if you ask me.” He kicks the robber into the nearest bookcase and webs him into place. “But, I'm digging the red.”

“Police two blocks away,” Ned thankfully updates. With the almost-robber fixed in place, Peter jogs to the front doors and shouts to the cashier as he leaves,

“Sorry about the mess!” As soon as Peter is outside, he can hear the sirens and shoots a web to the building across the street. He starts swinging across, MJ talking into the comms.

“You’re not going to like this,” MJ speaks up.

“What? What is it? I thought I did good!” Peter asks, all the possibilities already running through his head.

“Peter…I think you need to hear this,” Ned answers instead. “Get onto ABC7 Eyewitness News.” Peter’s heart thuds.

“Karen, can you pull it up, please?” he requests politely. Without hesitation, a window pops up on Peter’s interface. It’s a shaky video, filmed from what is most likely a helicopter, of the Empire State Building. _This can't be good_. The camera zooms in on none other than Mysterio, his purple cape flowing in the wind and his plexiglass helmet reflecting the helicopter’s spotlight. Peter’s face pales at the villain’s words.

 _“Come face me Spider-Man!”_ Mysterio’s muffled voice demands. His tone is upbeat, as if he’s playing some kind of sick game. _“The longer you stall, the more impatient I get! For the sake of the hostages, I suggest you hurry.”_ Peter can't breathe. _“The show waits for no one! Let the games…begin!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit about to go down  
> ⊂( ・ -・)⊃ Thank you for reading!
> 
> QUICK IMPORTANT NOTE: @nathvods on Instagram made fanart of this fic!!! ITS SO GORGEOUS YOU MUST GO LOOK AT IT PLEASE. Plus it's a mini Easter egg hunt!!  
> https://www.instagram.com/nathvods/p/ByvIdBrF_q6/?igshid=scuum1tez0rb
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	28. Ringmaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!!! I'm SUPER excited for this chapter, it was a lot of fun to write and has a lot of action! I'd also like to thank each and every single one of you for 800 kudos🎉🎊 And happy 100k words!!! You're all amazing!! It honestly means the world that you're all here and so supportive, I hope you're enjoying the story :) Have fun and stay safe!!❤🧡💛💚💙💜
> 
> Look below for the trigger warning for this chapter, but they're also spoils so look at your own risk! :)
> 
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> 
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> 
> TW & slight spoils//hallucinogenic gas exposure and minor blood/injury

It takes Peter five minutes too long to swing from the bookstore to the Empire State Building. Luckily, he doesn't have to slow down for inconvenient things such as traffic and detours due to Mysterio’s sudden appearance. Karen, MJ, and Ned all give him updates as he swings as to any moves Mysterio tries to make. Peter can't stop thinking about what Mysterio said, _“The show waits for no one!”_ He forces his already fatigued arms to swing himself forward even faster.

When he arrives on the scene, he lands on the outside of one of the Empire State Building’s thousands of windows. He’s only about six stories up, but he can see the helicopter’s light at the top. It’s a long climb to the observatory deck, roughly seventy more floors, but he doesn't hesitate to start his ascent.

“I'm getting serious flashbacks to Washington, guys,” Peter grunts in exertion as he uses his webs to climb faster.

“Except the Empire State Building is more than twice the height of the Washington Monument,” Ned corrects without remorse. That’s helpful.

“Yeah, I'm aware. Thanks for the boost of confidence!” Peter responds sarcastically. He glances to the live news feed every few seconds to make sure all the hostages are still safe. There are at least six visible hostages and Mysterio is confident enough to be monologuing to the helicopter with his arms raised.

“If it makes you feel better, the Empire State Building wasn't built by slaves,” MJ reassures matter-of-factly.

“Oh yeah, _so_ much better. My faith in humanity has been restored,” Peter humors her.

“It was during a time when people of color didn't have rights,” MJ adds. Y’know, how could Peter argue with that?

Once he gets closer to the 86th floor, where the observation deck is, he looks at the live feed to see what side Mysterio is on. Based off the live feed, Peter can see that Mysterio is on the platform that faces North. Peter crawls to the North side of the building and continues to climb up.

The observatory wraps around the spire and is partly enclosed by interconnecting, metal bars that don't quite close off the platform. Instead, it leaves a gap from the top of the bars to the base of the building. Peter should be able to swing over the cage-like structure to reach the observation deck. He feels better knowing that it decreases the risk of anyone being able to fall off, considering the bars look about ten feet tall. When he reaches the 86th floor, he stops.

“Peter? Why’d you stop?” Ned questions nervously as Peter eyes the ridge of the observation landing.

“Math. Trajectories and stuff,” Peter supplies in a concentrated mumble. He shoots a web from each wrist and, once they're attached, he slowly leans back. _If I can just get the angle right…_ With a swift, aching tug from both arms, he launches himself upwards. He lets go of his webs, flying up over the metal bars and landing on the concrete observation deck in a low stance.

When he lands, he’s in front of the line of hostages that are huddled as close to the bars as possible. He’s the only one blocking Mysterio’s path, who stands proudly with gas flowing from his boots and lasers mounted on his shoulders readied to be fired.

“Hey, Dome Head! I was just thinking about you! Look, you didn't have to go to all the trouble of contacting me through national television. If you wanted to hang out, you coulda just asked! I'm a simple guy,” Peter immediately banters, hoping it’ll earn him some time. Time for what, he's not exactly sure. He just wants to take the fight away from the hostages.

“He finally arrives!” Mysterio announces with his usual flare. “Tell me, how did it feel to watch that little girl stare death in the face?” he questions, taking Peter completely by surprise.

“Focus, Parker,” MJ warns through the comms. Peter does his best to listen to her.

“In fact, you almost didn't get to her in time, did you?” Mysterio inquires nonchalantly. Peter can tell what the villain is trying to do. Mysterio’s trying to make the hostages turn against him. Make them lose faith in Spider-Man. Peter won't let that happen.

“But I _did_ save her, because that's what I do. I help people, unlike you,” Peter counters.

 _“Me?”_ Mysterio repeats as if he's innocent. “I’m only trying to educate that people! They have to know that untrained, sloppy ‘superheroes’ like yourself only make things worse. They need a professional!” Peter could almost laugh at the production this guy is making, if it weren't for the group of hostages behind him.

“You seriously think you'd be better at keeping people safe? Hate to break it to you, but you would have to be a _good_ guy to do that. And who says I'm not trained?!” A guy with a glass bubble on his head calling Spider-Man unqualified?! Peter would have to pinch himself to prove he's not dreaming.

“Does a certain ferry incident sound familiar?” His blood runs cold at Mysterio’s words. “Or how about the warehouse in Queens?” Peter’s heart picks up speed. _Stay calm, stay calm, stay-_ “Someone who were experienced wouldn't need Iron Man’s help. Someone who were experienced wouldn't have fallen into an obvious trap.” _No no no no, relax. You're just tired and high-strung. Focus, like MJ said._

“I made it out of that warehouse,” Peter says confidently.

“Did you, Spider-Man?” Mysterio’s simple seed of suspicion is enough to plant doubt in Peter’s mind. Did he make it out? Is he the same person? He didn't question himself this much before the warehouse, so he couldn't be the same. Spider-Man is here, but…where's Peter Parker? Is he still trapped underneath those tons of rubble?

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he feigns boredom and tries to regain some of his confidence through his banter. “We could fight or, hear me out, we could go to this sandwich shop on 21st street. Best sandwiches in queens!” Mysterio doesn't even humor Peter with an answer, he just gets straight down to throwing punches.

Peter’s main priority is to get Mysterio as far away from the hostages as possible. He side steps one of Mysterio’s kicks to start leading the insane villain away from the others.

“Karen? How far are the- _woah!”_ Peter dodges a quick fist by a mere inch. “How far are the firefighters?!” He doesn't want to have to be worried about the hostages getting caught in the crossfire while he fights.

“Firefighters are coming up in the elevator as we speak. I've been in contact with them and they are happy to cooperate to make sure the hostages get out safe,” Karen answers without missing a beat. As she speaks, Peter runs up the metal bars at the edge of the building to avoid one of Mysterio’s punches. Peter successfully flips over the man and lands behind him to deliver a swift kick to his air tanks. The tanks dent ever so slightly and Mysterio stumbles into the metal bars with a clang.

“Nice try! ‘A’ for effort!” Peter quips, sending another kick to the villain’s ankles to hopefully damage the other gas nozzles. He shoots two Taser Webs at Mysterio's back and watches the electricity flash through the webbing. Mysterio seizes for a brief moment before the lasers on his shoulders cut through Peter’s webs. “The one time I actually get the dumb Taser Webs to hit and you cut right through them?! That's rude, man! There's some things you just don't do!”

“You better get used to not getting what you want,” Mysterio warns in a low tone. Peter scoffs, _If only he knew._ Mysterio raises his hand and orbs of light suddenly flitter around him before encircling Peter. Peter knows it’s just an illusion, but that doesn’t stop the lights from causing blue and black dots to take over his vision.

“Adjust the light filters,” he tells Karen as he backs away from the visual onslaught. If this keeps up, his senses will overload. Thankfully, Karen lessens the input and he no longer feels the need to rip his eyes out. His vision clears just in time to see Mysterio leap over his head. “Woah! Maybe you should give up the whole supervillain thing and become an acrobat,” Peter banters. Mysterio hasn’t been able to jump like that before.

“Surprised, are we? You shouldn’t be. With my talent and hard work, I designed them!” Mysterio proudly admits as he gestures to his boots.

“MJ, add ‘roboticist’ to the list of our multi-talented friend,” Peter murmurs into the comms. Mysterio continues as if Peter had said nothing.

“Someone like you could never understand the technical complexity that goes into-”

“Do those have magnetic coil springs?!” Peter interrupts excitedly, bending over to get a better look at the boots. Mysterio pauses, slightly taken aback, if not annoyed. “That’s wicked!” Peter’s only goal is to distract the man long enough to give the firefighters time to get to the hostages. Mysterio’s gas increases in flow ever so slightly and more images of him appear. _Déjà vu, much?_

“Remember this?” The Mysterios surround Peter, utterly indistinguishable from the real Mysterio. Luckily, Peter already knows this song and dance.

“This old parlor trick again? I'm starting to get bored, Mysterio,” he taunts.

“Why change my tricks when they fooled you so well?” Mysterio’s familiar, omnipresent voice booms. The group of Mysterios surround Peter as he lowers into a fighting stance, then they attack. Attempted punches and kicks blur Peter’s vision, but he makes no move to block or counterattack. _Trust your Spidey Sense. They aren't real._ A fist flies through his chest. _Wait for the real one._ A kick passes through his head. _Trust yourself._ Immediately after the kick, his Spidey Sense goes off, sending chills over his shoulders. _Left._ He trusts in his senses, backflipping out of the way of the real Mysterio’s rocketing punch.

“Peter, your blood glucose levels are low and you seem to be experiencing exhaustion. I suggest a nap,” Karen’s parental voice comes through. The concrete cracks from the force of Mysterio's metal fist colliding where Peter once was. When Peter lands, he shoots a web at Mysterio and tugs him off balance.

“Yeah, lemme just let the _supervillain_ know it’s my scheduled nap time,” Peter retorts sarcastically. Mysterio quickly recovers and fires a laser in defense, which blasts right past Peter and cuts into the metal bars. The beam melts the metal, causing it to creek as a large chunk begins to slide off. Peter is about lunge for it when he stops himself. _No Spidey Sense. Not real. Ignore it._ He sprints passed the Mysterio illusions straight towards the real one, then jumps into the air to bring down a solid punch on the villain.

Mysterio blocks Peter’s fist with his metal gauntlet, but the metal around his forearm gives way under Peter’s strength. The nozzle on Mysterio’s right wrist crumples and he grunts in effort to push against Peter. Mysterio may be good with combat, but Peter quickly notices a distinct lack of strength when he overpowers the villain. Peter grips the metal glove and pushes Mysterio down to his knees, causing all the illusions to vanish.

“Karen!” Peter yells, hoping that she’ll get the message.

“On it,” she responds affirmatively. In the corner of Peter’s HUD, Karen contacts the firefighters waiting inside to start working on getting the hostages out while Mysterio is distracted. Mysterio uses his free hand to try to grab Peter and pull him off, but Peter’s Spidey Sense warning allows him to swiftly lift his legs out of the way. When Mysterio’s other hand passes underneath Peter’s feet, Peter shoots a web at the flying fist and lands before binding the villain’s wrists together.

“See? This is what happens when you break the rules,” Peter scolds as he replaces a cartridge. “No one’s above the law and I don't want to be a snitch.” His breathing is becoming more labored than it should be, but he can't focus on that when lives are in danger.

“You’re nothing but cowardice and empty threats!” Mysterio yells as his chemical abrasive eats through the webs around his wrists. Just as he breaks free, Peter shoots a Web Grenade that attaches to Mysterio’s chest. It explodes in his face, disorienting him long enough for Peter to fire another Web Grenade at Mysterio’s feet to keep him momentarily stuck in place. Peter quickly gets to work, attaching webs to Mysterio’s abdomen and running sideways across the metal bars to wrap them around his chest. “You think these measly webs can hold me back?!” Mysterio demands. Peter jumps from the bars to the side of the building, taking quick strides across the panes of glass as he webs up the villain from all angles.

“Peter, your metabolism is beginning to eat away at your muscle tissue to receive the necessary fuel to sustain your body’s activity,” Karen warns. The webs pin Mysterio’s arms to his side and start to create a cocoon around him. Peter further makes sure Mysterio can't escape by shooting webs to block where the chemical abrasive is released from his suit. There's no way Peter is going to let him get away again.

Once Mysterio is trying to break free but can't, Peter uses Splitter Webs to connect the bundled up Mysterio to both the bars and the main building in a such a way that it somewhat resembles a spider’s web. Peter shouldn't be surprised anymore. He lands and pops out the two empty cartridges in case he needs two more Web Grenades. Better safe than sorry.

“How's _that_ for an empty threat?” Peter quips before getting down to business. “Karen, let the firefighters know I have Mysterio restrained. They need to get the hostages out ASAP. Ned, MJ, are the police on their way?” Mysterio huffs a small, amused laugh, catching Peter off guard. Not the kind of laugh that suggests he liked Peter's joke. The kind that practically screams “I have the upperhand, you just don't know it yet.” It’s…worrisome, but Ned responds before Peter can dwell on it.

“Should be coming up any second behind the firefighters. They almost have all the hostages out,” Ned relays in a serious tone.

“Nice work, Parker,” MJ praises slightly. Peter is about to thank her when the gas that has been lazily hanging around his feet begins to rise. The flow from Mysterio’s singular functioning wrist nozzle is increasing.

“Oh, this is bad…” Peter mutters to himself, his mechanical lenses going slightly wider.

“Peter?! Is everything okay?!” Ned’s frantic voice speaks up.

“Nope, not okay. Definitely not okay. Karen, circulate the air in the suit and filter out as much gas as you can. Can't talk guys, gotta focus!” Peter can hear MJ’s snort as he implies that he's actually listening to her advice for once. Mysterio uses his lasers to simultaneously cut through the webbing and aim for Peter. Without fail, Peter’s Spidey Sense warns him in time for him to jump out of the way. As soon as he lands, the tingling sensation returns but it isn't as sharp as the last time. He only barely manages to dodge another laser.

He starts to feel…fuzzy.

Detached.

This is bad.

“The filtration doesn't appear to be working as well as we hoped. The gas is affecting your senses as well,” Karen regretfully admits.

“Why aren't the filters working?!” Peter demands, narrowly missing a laser. He tries to shoot a web at Mysterio, but it veers off to the side. _How is my aim off?_

“Usually your enhanced metabolism is able to burn through the remaining gas that isn't filtered by the suit. However, your metabolism is currently occupied with keeping your energy levels stable enough for you to remain conscious. Essentially, you are purely running on adrenaline,” Karen informs. _Okay, that's bad,_ Peter distantly recognizes. Between his foggy brain, talking with Karen, and a distinct lack of a Spidey Sense, the next round of lasers manage to graze Peter’s leg and hit his ribs.

With a sharp gasp, he lazily shoots a web aimed at the windows and is somehow able to swing across. At this angle he can see the view of the city, unknowingly continuing life as if Peter weren't fighting for a number of lives.

“I'm not liking this bright red blip on my screen indicating an injury,” MJ speaks up, hiding her concern with a harsh tone.

“Just a flesh wound,” Peter argues. It’s hard to keep his eyes open.

“You have a suit breech,” MJ says with a tight voice. “Even more gas will get into your suit. You need to get away from it,” she orders. The gas is already causing his movement to become slow and imprecise. His ears are muffled and deep down he feels…aggravated. For no reason, which is even more frustrating. He distantly recalls May telling him about some side effects being agitation, but he needs to stay focused.

“Peter, you heard MJ! Get out of there!” Ned reiterates, obviously more panicked. Peter’s vision blurs and his muscles ache, protesting any movement.

“My, how the tables have turned, Spider-Man,” Mysterio chuckles deeply. “Disappointing, as always. Let’s finish this up.” For once, Peter knows when he needs help. He can't do this by himself, not like this. _Heroes need help too,_ Tony’s words echo in his head.

“Karen,” Peter slurs, “turn on aim assist ‘n call Mr. Stark.” What he doesn't realize is that the gas entering his already damaged suit is decreasing its mechanical integrity.

“I'm- orry, ca- the- circu- ffline,” is all he hears from Karen’s comforting voice before the silence. _No…_ He's not sure why he panics, but something about the thought of losing Karen sends him into hysterics.

“No no no no, Karen? Please don't leave me! _No!_ Come back! I need you! Please! I don't want to be alone!” Peter’s harsh voice tries to get through, but not even his friends answer him anymore. _I'm all alone. I'm all alone. I can't, I can't. Everyone leaves. Why does everyone always leave?!_

But he knows he still has to stop Mysterio, so he pushes back his suddenly overwhelming amount of grief to shoot a Taser Web at Mysterio, who is slightly obscured by the gas. Peter’s vision spins and he misses his target by a good foot. His frustration bubbles up. _Why can't you just aim?! You're supposed to be a superhero!_ Everything shifts and he feels himself falling off back onto the observation platform’s concrete floor. A bright laser passes over his head as he falls, only missing him by a few inches.

While it does miss him, it still carves a long crevice into the concrete where he was previously sticking to and shatters panes of glass as it veers across the length of the building. The laser starts to melt the metal supports of the windows, rendering them extremely unstable in a matter of seconds. A scream snaps Peter out of his drug induced haze.

It’s a boy on his knees a good fifteen feet away with broken glass surrounding him, staring up at the mangled mess of red hot metal. His knees are scraped and his eyes are wide as he stares up at the twisted metal in fear. The metal shifts, creating a horrid screech. The lights inside the building flicker and Peter can hear the muffled yelling of a woman. _Oh god, no. I have to get to him. I have to, I have to save him!_

Peter sloppily shoots his webs to barely pull himself forward, but he can't get to his feet. Everything feels sluggish, but his heart beats erratically. His arms burn and he can _feel_ his muscle fibers ripping themselves apart. _Faster!_ He grits his teeth and pushes his body even further. He pulls himself a few more feet closer on his stomach. He can't think clearly, but he knows that he has to reach that little boy. _I have to. I'm Spider-Man. I have to. Just a bit more! I save people, that's what I do! I have to!_

He lifts a shaky hand to try to extend his wrist and shoot another web, but his hand falls limp. His muscles just won't listen.

He can't breathe.

He can't move.

He won't make it.

The metal gives way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU ASKED FOR THE ANGST AND YOU GOT THE ANGST  
> Thank you for reading I have no regrets😇
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	29. Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Saturday once again!! I've kept you in anticipation long enough so here's the chapter :) If any of you are worried about whether or not I would off a kid, scroll down to the trigger warning but also be aware ITS A HUGE SPOILER! But if you do get easily triggered I recommend looking at it! Look at your own risk! Tags will be updated next chapter.
> 
> Have fun and stay safe❤🧡💛💚💙💜
> 
> -
> 
> -
> 
> -
> 
> TW & MAJOR SPOILERS// No I wouldn't kill a kid of course not I'm not THAT heartless, but there is a minor character death so please be cautious!

The metal gives way.

Peter’s heart could stop and he wouldn't even care.

_Get up._

He pushes himself up with a surge of fear and adrenaline, forcing his legs to work.

_Move._

He manages to force himself forward for a few stumbled steps and extends his hand. The whole Empire State Building feels like it's spinning. His fingers weakly press to his web-shooter.

It misses the target.

Everything happens too fast.

His stomach churns as the metal falls.

_Oh god, he's just a kid._

Instead, all Peter can do is watch as a woman takes the boy’s place, pushing him out of harm's way. She disappears under the metal frame instantly.

Peter falls to his knees, eyes wide and watery.

“Momma! Momma!” the little boy screams. Peter forces his bloodshot eyes to shift to the boy, who’s now kneeling next to the mangled mess of rubble. By this time, Mysterio is long gone. He did his damage and left, but Peter wasn't aware of the villain’s absence. The only thing Peter can focus on is the thought that he had just been _useless_ as he let a woman…die. Not just a woman, a human life, but a mother.

Peter’s stomach twists with nausea and his entire body flushes with warmth. His breath comes fast and his eyelids try to close, but he can't just leave the boy. He gets back to his feet, trying his best to stagger over to the distraught kid. Peter has to comfort him, because that’s _Peter._ That's _him_ after his parents died. That's _him_ after Uncle Ben died. _He’s_ that boy. _He_ knows exactly what that boy is feeling.

“Spider-Man, help my Momma!” the little boy calls desperately. The words shatter Peter’s heart, because he knows the boy’s mom isn't coming back. When he reaches the boy, he places a heavy hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Help her!” Peter drops to the ground to shakily pull the boy into his arms, remembering that all he wanted after Uncle Ben died was comfort. He wanted May to hold him, but he couldn't even look her in the eyes. The boy desperately hugs him back.

“You should've done more.” Peter can feel his heart stop at the familiar sound of the voice. “You let me die and now you let her die.” He slowly turns his head towards the voice, his eyes wide.

“Uncle Ben?” He holds the sobbing boy tighter.

“Peter, why didn't you do better? _Be_ better? You knew what I always said. That woman was your responsibility. Now you've let that poor kid down,” Ben says, grief evident in his distorted voice. Peter isn't sure if he starts crying at the words or purely at the sound of hearing his uncle’s voice. The voice he thought he’d never hear again.

“No no no, please, Uncle Ben. I swear I did the best I could,” Peter manages through hiccups.

“Over here!” a distant voice calls before two firefighters run over to Peter and the boy. One of them applies an oxygen mask to the little boy before lifting him out of Peter’s arms.

“Spider-Man, are you alright?!” the other asks, noticing the hero’s state of shock. _No, I'm not okay. This isn't okay._

“Yeah. Just, just get him out of here. I’ll swing,” Peter mumbles, not quite sure if he's even the one speaking. He doesn't feel his lips move. Without argument, the firefighters leave in order to tend to the boy. Peter stands on two shaking legs.

“Your best wasn't enough.” Ben’s tone is so soft and regretful that it tears Peter apart. “You let someone die while you were on the ground. You let me die while you were shopping at a convenience store. You let your parents die while you were home doing nothing. You let us all die.” _Uncle Ben wouldn't say that,_ Peter’s last remaining rational thought tells him. But Peter is so exhausted and emotional and lightheaded that he can't help the thoughts.

“I would've given my life to save you, you know that,” Peter tries to reason. And it's true. Peter spent months wishing that bullet would've hit him instead. He could have healed. The scene around him blurs out of focus, but he can still see Ben as clear as day. His surroundings shift and distort into a nightmare of the night Uncle Ben died.

“But you didn't. I'll never see May again. You took me away from her.” Peter’s heart physically aches and he doesn't know how he’ll live through this again. Suddenly, a red stain starts to spread across Ben’s shirt. “You let it happen again.” The breath catches in Peter’s throat. He stumbles towards Ben as fast as he can as blood spills from his uncle's mouth.

“I'll fix it this time! I promise! I won't let it end like this again! I won't let you go!” Peter extends his arms to grasp his uncle in a hug. “I’ll save you! I swear, I’ll save you! I'm here! I'm-” His arms go straight through Ben. He staggers forwards and looks back. Ben is lying on the ground, a puddle of his own blood surrounding him and soaking his shirt.

“Baby,” Peter’s eyes snap up towards the feminine voice, “how could you?” Peter’s lip wobbles.

“May, May I didn't, I,” he trips over his barely audible excuses. That's all they are, right? Nothing but excuses. Excuses won't bring his uncle back.

“I lost him all over again,” May's eyes glisten, “because of you.” Her voice cracks before she starts to sob into her cupped hands.

“Please don't cry, May. I'll, I'll-” his own sob cuts him off. “I'm so sorry I wasn't _better,”_ he cries.

“I can't,” May whispers, but Peter can still hear her. “I can't live like this.” Peter’s heart drops impossibly farther. He can feel his face pale and a sudden weight encompasses his hands. He looks down to see them coated in a thick, red liquid. _They'll never wash._ When he lifts his eyes, he's inside their apartment. There's a suitcase at his feet. “I can't live with a murderer,” May chokes out, her cold eyes fixed on Peter. Those aren't the eyes of his aunt. Her eyes are always full of love and life life and have this _sparkle_ to them. The ones boring into him right now, however, are full of grief, regret, and… _hatred._

“You, you can't just make me-”

“I can. I want you out. I can't look at _you_ without seeing _him,”_ May forces out as tears flow down her face. The room spins around Peter’s vision and the colors blend together. May contorts too, her image bending and swirling like a mirage.

“May, don't! Don't leave me too! I'll do anything! Come back!” Peter frantically reaches his hand out, but it's grasped by a metal one. The crimson, metallic hand tightens around his wrist. He looks up to see the impassive stare of Iron Man.

They're on the roof.

Peter can see the ferry in the background.

The faceplate lifts and Peter almost can't look at the man’s face. The clenched jaw and hard, disappointed eyes. _Disappointed._ The suit melts around Tony, unveiling his prestige suit as he removes his hand. He keeps his eyes locked on Peter, not even blinking. Peter doesn't dare to move as he stares, frozen in shock.

“What if somebody had died tonight?” _Oh god, no_.

“Mr., Mr. Stark, I can, I can expla-”

“Different story, right? ‘Cause that’s on you.” Tony doesn't let Peter continue and jabs a finger at his chest. _Someone died. It’s on me. It’s on me. It’s on_ me _._ “And if you died, I feel like that's on me.” Tony’s voice lacks the anger Peter had been expecting, almost as if he were bored. “I don't need that on my conscience.” _She died because of me. What if she were a mother? A sister? A best friend? An aunt? Oh god, an aunt. Oh no. No no no no-._ “I don't need _you_ on my conscience, Pete,” Tony adds with exasperation. “I'm gonna need the suit back.” Peter's world shatters. Literally. The entire scene around him cracks until it shatters, revealing the penthouse instead. Tony doesn't move, he just keeps his unwavering gaze on Peter.

“I'll be, I’ll be better from now on, I won't-”

“Heroes are dead, Mr. Parker,” Tony interrupts, causing Peter’s throat to close up. “You don't become a hero until you give your life for others. Your Uncle Ben did that. You don't live as a hero, you die as one. So tell me, what are you still doing here?” Tony's lips move, but it doesn't sound like him anymore. His tone is too harsh and impatient, like that evening after the ferry.

“I…I don't know,” Peter answers honestly, gripping his hair tightly in both hands. Adrenaline floods his system and he become keenly aware of his surroundings. His breathing picks up. The useless, unpowered mask sits heavily on his face until he rips it off to breathe better.

“I deserved better than this.” Tony looks up and down Peter. “Than you.” Peter drops to his hands and knees as Tony starts to yell. “I wasted my time, my energy, my tech, my money, and for what?!” _Dissonance._ “Some fourteen year old kid to play _hero?!_ I should've never brought you to Germany!” _Dissonance_. “You call yourself a hero? That you actually _help_ people? What a joke. A waste of time. Waste of space. To think I actually thought you had what it takes to be an Avenger. You think I actually care about you? Not a chance.” _Dissonance Dissonance Dissonance Dissonance Dissonance._ Peter flinches at every one of Tony’s harsh words, unruly tears leaking from his eyes. He wishes he weren't this weak. He wishes he weren't here. He wishes he could stand up for himself. But the sounds pierce his ringing ears and the lights hurt his eyes and the cement is too cold through his suit and _dissonancedissonancedissonance._

“Please, just go away. Leave me alone. Go away,” Peter begs.

“I can't do that, kiddo,” Tony argues, but the tone is softer. It's almost like the sudden shift in tone is meant to trick him. Drive him insane. He doesn't want to trust Tony again. It hurts too much to be let down. But he's the one who let Tony down, right?

“Go away!” Peter yells with his hoarse voice. His grief quickly morphs into anger. Rage. _How dare Mr. Stark say those things when all I'm trying to do is help people_. Peter stands with shaky, unpredictable legs.

“Careful-” As soon as Peter feels hands on his shoulders, he pushes them away.

“Don't touch me!” Peter screams. “Get away from me!” He can hear Tony’s heart rate pick up, but he doesn't care.

“Okay, okay. Let’s just relax.” Tony hold his hands up and Peter narrows his eyes.

“Relax? Relax?! You don't know what hell I've been through! This damn life! I'm sick of it! Just go away!” Peter grips his head and tries to shake everything away. He wants out of the Tower and he doesn't want to see Tony.

“Talk to me, Peter. What's going on?” Tony asks carefully. The man takes a step forward, his hands still raised, but Peter flinches.

“You didn't believe in me then and you don't believe in me now!” Peter quickly wipes at his damp cheeks, not wanting to show any weakness.

“I've always believed in you. There wasn't a moment where I didn't believe in you,” Tony counters seriously, but stops approaching the kid.

“No you don't,” Peter immediately argues. His words slur slightly and he stumbles in place. Somehow, his head feels light and detached from his body. “You always treat me like a baby! Like I'm incapable! I'm sick of it! I'm not gonna disappear into thin air!” When Peter yells, it doesn't feel like his lungs are working. Everything is becoming hypersensitive and numb at the same time.

“I do that because I care. You know that. I don't want you getting hurt out there when you're so young,” Tony explains his reasoning. Somehow, it only makes Peter more furious.

“No, you don't! You don't care! You don't even know my best friend's name! You don't know my birthday! You called me fourteen when I was fifteen! You don' pay attention ‘cause you don' care!” His breathing comes out as harsh gasps and it feels like his hands are numb. He blinks over and over again to try to clear his blurred vision.

“Your birthday is August 10th, 2001 and you're sixteen years old. Your best friend’s name is Ned Leeds, very smart kid.” Tony takes the calm approach. “Michelle Jones is a smart kid too, even though it's scary how much she reminds me of Pepper. They're both good people, and I'm glad you have friends like them to support you. They're the ones who called me when your suit went offline.” It doesn't make sense to Peter. Tony isn't supposed to pay attention or care or help him.

“No, no, you said you don't care! Stop messing with my head! Get out! I'm doing, I'm doing the best I can!” The more tired Peter gets, the more jumbled his words sound. He just wants to sleep, but this feels like such a nightmare that he might already be asleep.

“You're best _is_ the best, kiddo. You did great saving those people, but now you gotta take care of yourself. We have to get this drug out of your system. It's making you irritable and prone to hallucinations. You don't mean what you're saying. I'm sorry for making you feel like I don't care, alright?” Peter wildly shakes his head. Everything feels real and everything looks real and it's all too much to take in.

“If you're going to apologize, make sure you aren't doing it to make yourself feel better,” Peter says with so much venom that it would've surprised himself if everything weren't muddled. “You don't care about me or, or my life! You never cared! You don't-”

 _“Peter Benjamin Parker!”_ Tony interrupts with such force that it snaps Peter out of his spiraling. Peter looks up and everything is slightly clearer, but still hazy around the edges. Reality is blurring together. He can still see the golden light from the penthouse, but now he can also see the darkness of night from when he was standing on the Empire State Building. None of it makes sense. “Don't you ever think for a second that I don't care about you. You hear me, kid? I worry about you every goddamn second of every goddamn day. You've given me more gray hairs than anyone else I know. And I'm proud of who you are. Who you've become. Who you're still becoming. Not Spider-Man, _you_. Every ounce of the Star Wars loving geek that you are, even with all those terrible science pun shirts, makes me proud. You couldn't get rid of me even if you wanted to, and I know you don't. You're the most kind hearted, selfless kid I know and some moron with laughing gas isn't gonna change that. _Nothing_ is going to change that. I am _proud_ of you. Understand?” Peter’s tears spill over, his head a bit clearer. Everything is starting to slowly come back. The drug is being burned off, leaving him exhausted and emotional. However, that means his senses are going to come back with full force. For once, he'd prefer the numbness.

“I'm sick of watching people die,” Peter’s voice cracks. His muscles ache and he'd give anything to just go home. Tony’s jaw clenches and he sighs.

“I know, bud.” Tony slowly approaches Peter, being careful not to spook him, and steadies the teen’s shoulders when he reaches him. Then, Tony lets Peter lean into his chest for support. Peter can hear his heartbeat. Tony wraps his arms around the kid and holds him close to make sure he doesn't fall. “I've got you. I've always got you,” Tony reassures, his tone surprisingly warm. His comforting has come a long way. He wraps his arms tightly around Peter and runs a hand through his hair in hopes of calming him down. “Fri, tell the Medbay we’re coming in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (´•ω•｀) don't worry  
> c(´•ω•｀) it'll be okay  
> (´•ω•｀) one day
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	30. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Wednesday and we have emerged from the angst...to get more angst! You're all a joy as always and make my day!!
> 
> Since this story is going to be reaching its end soon, I already have the next story cued up :) I put up a poll on my Twitter for how often you'd like the next story to be updated, since it's shorter. Thank you so much! Have fun and stay safe❤🧡💛💚💙💜
> 
> TW: Sensory overload & mild blood mention

As soon as Tony is able to get his arms around Peter, he rockets them both into the sky. He doesn't like the fact that this is the second time he has carried a semiconscious vigilante to the Medbay. Thankfully, Peter seems a lot more aware than he was last time. He has his mask back on to help lessen the effects of the sensory overload, but he still has his hands clamped over his ears to block out the wind.

“That's a big booboo,” Peter comments, looking down at his leg. It’s glistening with fresh blood from when he was hit by Mysterio's laser. Luckily, the laser cauterized it for the most part and the wound across his abdomen isn't as deep.

“Don't worry, I'll get you some Spidey themed band-aids,” Tony assures in a lighthearted tone.

“Dr. Cho’s gonna be pissed.” Peter chuckles at the thought. Dr. Cho did say that she didn't want to see him in the Medbay again. Oopsies.

“Yeah, can't help you out with that one, kid.” Tony glances at his ETA of two minutes. He decides to get Pepper on the phone, not particularly in the mood for a short-tempered Helen or a murderous Aunt May. Pepper answers with a slightly strained voice.

“Oh my god, Tony, do you have him?” she immediately asks.

“Of course I do. Have Helen get prepped, I didn't want to deal with-”

“The communication?” Pepper supplies for him.

“Exactly. See, this is why I love you. Tell her to bring everything she needs up to the penthouse, I'm not dealing with the same shitstorm as last time. Speaking of which, handle the PR, too. Enough is gonna be going on with the news and emphasize that we don't have any comment. Oh, and catch May Parker up on the situation. Have Happy pick her up and drive her to the Tower. How's the news?” Tony asks carefully, not quite sure if he wants to hear the answer.

“Could be better,” Pepper answers vaguely.

“Great. See you in a second.”

“Fly safe,” she urges.

“I've got precious cargo here, Pep. I’m not gonna be doing backflips through the sky,” Tony responds sarcastically.

“Watch your tone.” With that, Pepper ends the call. Tony turns his attention back to the masked teen in his arms.

“How you doing, kid?”

“I'm so sorry.” That wasn't what Tony was expecting to hear. “I'm so, so sorry.”

“Pete-”

“I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it,” Peter forces out, tears flying out of his eyes and into the crisp night air.

“I know you didn't, bud. Don't worry about it. Just focus on you,” Tony reassures in a gentle tone.

“Mr. Stark, my stomach hurts. Everything hurts,” Peter mumbles. If he could, he'd curl into a ball and shut the world out until his crazed senses calmed down.

“I know, tell me about it. Let it out.” Tony quickly rethinks his wording. “But if you vomit, don't vomit on me. Just let me know and you stick your head away from the suit. Don't vomit on me, that’s all I'm asking.” Peter breathes a laugh.

“No promises,” he warns. Then he flinches, seemingly out of nowhere. “But can you calm down, please?” Tony has to tell himself not to scoff.

“Maybe if you didn't go out and get yourself drugged and beat to hell, I’d be more calm. I swear, I should sue you for the amount of years you're taking off my life with all this-”

“I can hear your heartbeat,” Peter softly interrupts. “It's kinda loud. And fast.” The thudding of Tony’s heart sounds like the giant drums Peter had to be around during band practice. Band was bad enough _without_ super hearing.

“You can…you can hear my heart? Through the _suit?”_ Tony clarifies. The idea of Peter being able to hear his heartbeat through a sense dampening mask, his hands, _and_ a titanium-gold alloy suit is a little more than disconcerting.

“Welcome to the world of sensory overload,” Peter congratulates facetiously. Tony lands on the balcony of the penthouse, his metal-covered feet sounding with a clank. His faceplate lifts as soon as he touches the ground and he gently lets Peter stand on his own. Surprisingly, Peter doesn't favor his injured leg. His heightened senses are bothering him way more than any pain ever could. His skin prickles more than it should at the hardly brisk air and the already dimmed lights of the penthouse still make his eyes sting. Despite this, he can see Dr. Cho standing inside with her arms crossed.

“Hey, Dr. Cho,” Peter greets in a sheepish whisper. “How’s life?” he asks conversationally as he casually leans on the wall. The wall is colder than he expected and he immediately stands back up straight. Dr. Cho isn't amused.

“I remember telling you that I didn't want to see you back with a medical emergency,” she recalls firmly. Peter keeps his eyes narrowed, even with the mask on, to help block out some of the artificial light. His senses are steadily getting less tolerant of his surroundings as the hallucinogen leaves his system.

“Well, it’s been a, been a rough day.” Peter clears his throat, careful to keep his tears away. All he can see in his mind is the boy’s tear-stained face and the mom’s resolve before she died to save her son.

 _“Peter.”_ Peter flinches at the voice and looks back up to see Tony a step closer. He hadn't realized he zoned out.

“Sorry, yeah?” he quickly responds in a hushed voice to not hurt his own ears. It’s hard to focus.

“Think you can walk over to the couch?” Tony asks carefully, eyeing the teen's wobbly stance.

“Mhm,” Peter hums affirmative, not daring to nod his head. The room is already spinning enough as it is. He tips slightly, but Tony is there to steady him before he can fall. Tony keeps both hands on Peter to make sure the kid stays upright. They hobble over to the couch, each of their footsteps echoing too loudly in Peter’s head, and he plops down on the soft cushions. What's worse than the footsteps are the heartbeats. He can hear both Tony's and Dr. Cho’s as they stand close beside him.

“I'm going to need to look at that leg,” Dr. Cho informs. Peter jumps at her close voice with a small gasp. This has to be the most humiliating thing he has ever gone through. He isn't used to having sensory overload around anyone besides May.

“It’ll heal fast,” Peter instantly provides. Honestly, Peter doesn't know if it will. All he knows is that if Dr. Cho tries to go poking and prodding, it’ll be excruciatingly painful with his senses in overdrive.

“I'm sorry, Peter, but it’s my job. I need to take a look at your leg and abdomen. Then I have to make sure the drugs are out of your system,” she calmly explains, making sure to maintain eye contact. Peter, however, can hardly keep his eyes open. He blinks multiple times and hears his mechanical lenses adjust before he chooses to shut his eyes entirely. “Peter?” _Please, be quiet,_ he wants to say. Instead, he clenches his teeth and takes a deep breath through his nose to steady himself. His grip tightens on the couch cushions.

He can feel the heat radiating off the lamp beside him. Spots dance behind his eyelids. Every ounce of noise, light, and sensation assault his very being. Then, everything becomes so jumbled that he can't discern one sound from another. _It’s too much. It’s all too much._ Every sound is like a hammer being struck on a microphone. All of his muscles are tense and he just wants to jump out of his skin.

What he isn't prepared for is his mask to be pulled off his head. Just the feeling of the fabric being dragged across his face is enough to send him reeling. He jerks away from the sensation and backs up into the corner of the couch. Hands on his shoulders send jolts of pain down both of his arms, but before he can react, something cool is being placed over his face. His first instinct is to rip it off, until he feels a cool breeze over his mouth and nose. His rigid muscles start to relax and a grateful calm washes over him. It’s a welcomed feeling compared to mere seconds ago when it felt like his skull was about to implode.

He carefully opens his eyes, feeling kind of fuzzy, and sees Tony’s creased face. Tony dutifully scans Peter as the teen slowly comes back to reality. Peter can feel the pins and needles in his hands and alternates between clenching and loosening his fists.

“You with us, Pete?” Tony asks in a still too loud whisper. Peter blinks his eyes to help them adjust to the light, but slowly nods in response. Then, he notices the non-rebreather mask on his face. When he goes to touch it, Tony gently stops his hand. “Ah ah ah, don't touch. It’s helping.” Peter notices that it isn't just oxygen and chuckles lightly.

“Guess anesthesia can actually be helpful when it wants to be,” he mumbles and lays his head back. “Are, are Ned and MJ okay?” He feels guilty for scaring them enough to make them call Tony. The last thing he remembers hearing from his suit is Karen’s short-circuiting voice. Peter suddenly bolts upright. “What about Karen?! Is she gonna be okay?!” Tony startles at Peter’s sudden movement, but recollects himself.

“She’s going to be just fine. We’ll fix her next time we’re in the workshop, okay?” he offers. Suddenly, Peter’s eyes start to brim with tears, completely blindsiding Tony.

“I gotta get him back,” Peter says with determination and resolve. “He, he…that _woman,_ Mr. Stark.” And lord, does Tony know that exact same feeling.

“You need to get healthy before you get back out there. I'm not sure I want you-”

“I heal fast. I gotta get him back,” Peter repeats, shaking his head which only causes his tears of anger to fall.

“You could've _died,_ Peter,” Tony tries to reason with him. Tony never wants to sound desperate, but the last thing he wants is Peter diving headfirst into a fight running purely on rage. That's a bad mix, he would know.

“Yeah, but it didn't take. I'm not the dying type.” _Only the people around me die,_ Peter adds in his head. “You didn't see that kid, Mr. Stark. How, how he _screamed_ and _begged_ for Spider-Man to do something to save his mom.” His voice wobbles. “And I couldn't do anything. _Spider-Man_ couldn't do anything. I watched a woman _die_ tonight, and that's on _me,”_ he quotes Tony’s words from the ferry, hoping it’ll convince his mentor. What he doesn't know is that Tony regrets those words every damn day.

“Kid, it wasn't your fault. I know you know that-”

“I'm supposed to be the hero and, and it _is_ my fault! Again! It’s always my fault!” Peter grips his hair tightly between his fingers. Tony delicately unfurls the teen’s fingers.

“It was never your fault,” he gently whispers. Peter knows he isn't just talking about the mother’s death.

“He died right in front of me.” Peter lowers his head, exhausted and unable to make eye contact. “I wasn't old enough to help my mom and dad, and then when I was old enough…I still couldn't save Uncle Ben. Even with powers. And, and then I couldn't save that boy’s mom. What kind of hero am I?” He covers his eyes with his forearm and cries silently.

“The selfless, compassionate, empathetic, caring, one. The best kind,” Tony answers honestly. Peter sniffs and looks up, hating how pathetically powerless he feels. “And I'm not just saying that. I mean it. Kid, there's no one who deserves to be a hero more than you. Any other teen that’d get superpowers would show them off to go viral, not pull people out of burning buildings. You do good, the thing you have to come to terms with is that we can't always save everyone. And that isn't _your_ fault. It’s those assholes out there who choose to hurt people. You did everything you could tonight.” Tony does his best to put as much sincerity in his voice as he can, because he means it with every fiber of his being.

“That boy doesn't know that,” Peter whispers, holding Tony’s gaze. Another tear falls down his cheek, but Tony is the one who wipes it. Tony takes a deep breath. He’s still trying to figure out this whole “encouragement” thing.

“I'm not gonna lie, I'm not great at this. I don't do reassurance or affection. I never got it at your age. But I promise you that when I say I believe in you, I damn well mean it.” Peter stares at him with pure pain and guilt in his eyes, but manages a small smile.

“Stupid childhood trauma,” Peter laughs weakly. Tony smiles at Peter’s strength to laugh even when he’s breaking.

“Tell me about it,” Tony chuckles humorlessly. He runs a hand through Peter’s hair, an action he never would've seen himself doing before, and takes a deep breath. “I'm sorry.” Peter looks up at him, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

“For what?”

“You took a hit, kid. A Tony Stark shaped hit.” Tony avoids eye contact at all costs.

“Mr. Stark…if this isn't my fault, then it’s not your fault either,” Peter reasons. “You didn't do anything wrong. You were there for me when I needed you and…I appreciate that,” he admits honestly. Tony lets himself indulge in this rare moment, and smiles slightly.

“Thanks, kiddo.”

After Dr. Cho cleans up Peter’s leg as well as his abdomen and, begrudgingly, only bandages the wounds instead of stitching them up, May makes her entrance. It’s a loud, rushed, very dramatic entrance of her running out of the elevator.

“Surprise…” Peter greets meekly.

“What the hell did I tell you?!” May demands as she engulfs Peter into a massive hug. Peter no longer has the non-rebreather mask linked to him, which he’s grateful for.

“May-”

 _“No,”_ she pulls away to look at him, “I told you what that gas could do to you. Not only that, I told you that I would not be able to emotionally or mentally handle seeing you get hurt on the _news_ of all places! Do you know how stressful that is for a parent, Peter?” Seeing her red, swollen eyes behind her glasses makes Peter’s stomach knot up. He hates causing this.

“I'm so sorry,” he whispers.

“This isn't okay. Seeing you getting drugged and beat up on live television is not okay,” May scolds with a tight, stern voice. Tony doesn't dare to interrupt them. “You’re my kid and I cannot lose you. Not to some creep with gas, that's for sure. I kept praying that I wasn't going to watch you fall off the Empire State Building.” She easily gets her point across with a trembling voice and watery eyes. Peter can't tell if her voice is trembling from anger, sadness, fear, or a mix of the three.

“I know. I'm really sorry. I was trying,” Peter repeats, his own eyes starting to water. He doesn't want to upset her more than she already is. May is all he has left.

“Baby,” May’s voice softens slightly, “the last thing I want to see is a repeat of Homecoming night. You're only sixteen, you have your whole life ahead of you. You can't live your life if you're holding a ferry together or under a collapsed warehouse.” This causes Peter’s stomach to drop and his eyes to widen.

“You, you know about the warehouse?” Peter asks breathlessly, shock evident on his face. His heart picks up speed.

“Oh sweetheart, I wasn't born yesterday. I can put two and two together.” May smiles sadly and rubs the back of her hand over her nephew’s cheek. She takes a deep breath and kisses his forehead. “I'm going to go talk to Dr. Cho.” With that, May gives Tony a look masked with cold, barely contained fury and walks off towards Dr. Cho. No one can dish out glares like May Parker, which Tony quickly realizes.

“Well that was a shit show. She’s…mad,” Tony observes. Peter rubs his hands over his face.

“Very mad.” Not that he can blame her. Honestly, he would be mad too if he were lied to about his child’s health and well-being. He already needs to start thinking of ways to make it up to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of the frying pan and into the fire,,,
> 
> Officially only five chapters left to go! Thank you for reading :)
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	31. A Work in Progress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!! I hope you're all doing well and that you've had a good week! Just wanted to let you know that, as always, I love you all and appreciate your support❤💙 You're the best audience I could ask for! We get a little bit of everything in this chap :) 
> 
> Some best friend happiness, some Irondad, some Aunt May love, and a good ol' bucket of angst! Have fun and stay safe❤🧡💛💚💙💜

Following a lengthy discussion with Dr. Cho, May concedes to the recommendation of Peter staying overnight just to make sure the hallucinogen doesn't have any long lasting effects on his body. They want to keep an eye on him, especially since Dr. Cho isn't sure how Peter’s body will handle it, and keeping him as close to the Tower as possible is the best decision. May agrees, even though she would rather have Peter home to get things back to a small semblance of normality. Dr. Cho suggests Peter be monitored overnight and take the next school day off, then return to school.

Tony, not wanting to get any further on May’s bad side, sends Peter to bed early after dinner and heads down to the workshop. Peter wants to argue, but decides it’s for the best to just listen. When he gets to his room, he hops onto the ceiling and pulls out his phone. He might as well update his friends if he’s expected to just go to sleep.

****

**_Our Dysfunctional Family_ **

Peter: _Spidey lives to fight another day_

MJ: _Did you really just refer to yourself in the first person?_

Ned: _PETER HOLY CRAP WHAT HAPPENED DID YOU GET GASSED ARE YOU OKAY??????_

Peter: _yes and yes_

Peter: _Dr Cho cleared me and said the hallucinogen was completely out of my system_

Ned: _STOP SCARING US LIKE THAT_

Ned: _WE’RE ALL GONNA NEED THERAPY KSDHJVBKFDVJN_

Ned: _WE THOUGHT YOU D I E D_

MJ: _I didn't think you died. I called Stark._

Ned: _WE BOTH CALLED HIM_

MJ: _He couldn't understand you because you were hysterical, Ned._

Ned: _THATS NOT THE POINT_

Ned: _WHAT HAPPENED PETER??????_

Peter: _weeeeeeeell_

Peter: _i kinda accidentally breathed in mysterio’s gas since there was a rip in my suit_

Peter: _and then i hallucinated_

Peter: _and then i yelled at Mr Stark cause i thought he was a hallucination too_

Peter: _sooooo when he was able to convince me he wasnt a hallucination he took me to the tower where Dr Cho helped_

Peter: _she was mad_

Peter: _and then May came_

Peter: _she was mad too_

Peter: _and she apparently knows what happened homecoming night with the warehouse_

Peter: _now im staying here until Mr Stark takes me home tomorrow afternoon_

Peter: _aaaaaand youre all caught up!_

Ned: _dude_

Ned: _that sucks_

MJ: _You really thought May wouldn't figure it out? I had it figured out that night, so she probably knew what happened as soon as she found out you're Spider-Man._

Ned: _mj has a point_

Ned: _my mom knows things about me that i dont even know about me_

Peter: _okay yeah i shouldve seen it coming but like i wasnt expecting it tonight yknow?_

MJ: _You should've. She’s smart._

MJ: _Probably scared her by almost dying, too._

Ned: _yeah that would definitely scare my mom_

Peter: _i didnt almost die! ive gotten closer to dying than that!_

MJ: _The fact that you have more than one near-death experience is concerning in and of itself._

Ned: _wait how many of those DO you have_

Peter: _i mean_

Peter: _well_

Peter: _i dont like the topic of this conversation so imma go to bed_

MJ: _You can't escape us, Parker._

Ned: _we’re all around you_

Peter: _i hate both of you and if i have nightmares because of this i'm swinging all the way over there to get payback_

MJ: _Who says we aren't there with you?_

Ned: _outside your window_

MJ: _Or inside the penthouse._

Ned: _watching_

MJ: _Waiting._

Peter: _first of all you can't be outside the window of the 59th floor_

Peter: _second of all you guys are creepy and i'm gonna sleep_

MJ: _Good night, Parker. Don't die._

Ned: _sweet dreams!_

Peter: _g’night guys!_

Peter: _send me the hw too pls_

****

Somehow, talking about May only makes Peter feel more guilty about everything he hid from her. He knows he has to fix it.

It isn't too long after he puts his phone away and lies down that he hears footsteps from outside his room. The footsteps stop outside his door, but he doesn't move. His Spidey Sense hasn't reacted. The door slowly creaks open, causing dim light to stream into the room.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., how are Peter's vitals?” Tony’s hushed voice reaches Peter’s ears. _Is Mr. Stark checking in on me?_

“They're all gucci, Boss.” Peter has to force himself not to laugh in order not to blow his cover.

“I'm rewiring you tomorrow,” Tony halfheartedly threatens. Peter can hear his deep sigh. “How am I gonna survive this kid…” he wonders aloud, his tone somewhat fond. Stressed, but fond. It catches Peter off guard, but he doesn't get much time to ponder it before the door closes again, the light disappearing with Tony. Peter supposes there would be a metaphor there if he wasn't so tired. Instead of searching for it, he slowly drifts to sleep.

Morning comes all too fast and Peter wakes up with a headache. It's not quite migraine levels of pain, but it's enough to make him groan before he even opens his eyes. Usually his sensory overloads lead to migraines the next day, so he's grateful for just the headache. However, the pain in his head is nothing compared to the pressure in his chest. _One less person is alive because of me. A kid lost his mom because of me._ He takes a deep breath to calm his erratic heart and racing thoughts.

Against his body’s pleads and protests, he gets out of bed and gets dressed. As he does so, he catches himself staring off into space more than once. He can't go a few minutes without his mind drifting back to the woman’s face. That exact moment when the boy’s eyes widened in realization at what his mother did. He snaps himself out of it before dragging himself from his room to slowly make his way to the open room.

He expects Tony to be awake and meandering like he tends to do, so he isn't shocked to see Tony in the penthouse. What he _is_ shocked to see is Tony wearing nothing other than Spider-Man merchandise.

Tony is sitting on the couch on his phone with his feet resting on the coffee table in front of him. On his feet are tall, blue socks with an abundance of scattered, bright red Spider-Man masks. Not only that, but it also has text around the top that says “ **The Amazing Spider-Man!** ” in bold letters.

“Um, Mr. Stark? What are you wearing?” Peter asks as he slowly approaches Tony, his eyes wide in shock and disbelief. Tony looks up from his phone to look at Peter with a slight smile.

“Well good morning to you, too,” Tony chastises before glancing down to button-up shirt and dress pants. “What, something _wrong_ with what I'm wearing? I think my clothes look pretty damn good.” He makes himself more comfortable on the couch and crosses his ankles.

“You're, you're wearing _Spider-Man socks,”_ Peter clarifies, gesturing to Tony’s feet.

“Hm?” Tony’s eyes follow the kid’s motion. “Oh, yeah. Neat, huh? Got ‘em at that Intergalactic doodads shop you like.” He wiggles his toes as if trying to prove a point. Peter can't help but chuckle at the sight of Tony Stark, his idol practically since birth, smiling proudly at his dancing toes.

“Well,” Peter hops over Tony’s extended legs and plops down beside him, “I guess I should almost die more often.” Tony scoffs and shakes his head.

“Yeah, that's a no,” he instantly disagrees. “What’s with you and Pepper trying to put me into cardiac arrest? On a different note, before you give me a heart attack, I fixed the circuitry in your suit last night. Everything's up ‘n running, including Karen so don't worry. She's back online to aid you in your ‘teenage rebellion.’” He throws up seemingly sarcastic air quotes. Peter immediately grins, a weight lifting off his shoulders that he didn't even realize was there.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Stark! I don't know what I would've done without her,” he says honestly. Karen is like a part of the family now, so it just wouldn't be the same without her.

“Why'd you name her ‘Karen’ anyways?” Tony inquires, raising a curious eyebrow. Peter is caught so off guard that he doesn't even know what to answer. What's he supposed to say?! That he decided to name it after Plankton's wife?! He clears his throat.

“Oh, yknow, nice, nice name. Yeah, nice name. Quality name. Just thought it fit.” Peter nods with his lips pressed together. Tony eyes him skeptically, but doesn't question him further.

“Boring name, if you ask me.”

“Says the one who has to use acronyms and nonsensical names for everything. Dum-E, F.R.I.D.A.Y., U-”

“You better watch your sass before you get too big for your britches,” Tony warns, jokingly. Peter laughs, happy to get a rare rise out of the man. As quickly as Peter’s smile had appeared, it leaves his face. The shift in mood is so shocking that Tony isn't exactly sure what to do at first. Peter looks down at his lap and fidgets with his hands. _How could I be so selfish? A woman, a mother, died last night because of me and I have the audacity to smile? Be happy? I don't deserve it. Not after-_

“Don't do that,” Tony finally speaks up. Peter doesn't move. “You can't get inside your head like that. No overthinking and definitely no blame game, got it?” Tony strictly reminds. Peter tightens his fists around the fabric of his jeans.

“She's gone. And, and no matter what I do I can't bring her back. If I had just, just…slept better or been more careful with my attacks I could've, I could've been more alert. I would've been able to save that kid before his mom…and now he’ll never get her back.” He uses every last ounce of strength he has to not burst into tears. He’d give his own life if it meant that boy had his mother back.

“Y’know, I'm not digging this negative vibe.” Tony admits nonchalantly, before becoming a bit more serious. “It's okay to be sad and upset, there's nothing wrong with having those emotions. What's _not_ okay is wasting time by wishing you had done something different or blaming yourself for what isn't your fault. That's counterproductive. It doesn't solve anything. Under my roof, we find _solutions._ We don't wallow. My Tower, my rules.” By the time he's done talking, Peter is silently crying but nodding all the same. “So, what's your solution, Mr. Parker?” Tony asks, settling on the tough love approach. Peter takes a few moments before answering in a raspy voice,

“I want to help him. The boy, the family,” he answers, finally looking up at Tony.

“Excellent solution.” Tony nods with a smile. “I'm proud of you, kid.” He puts an arm around Peter’s shoulders and gives him a comforting squeeze. Peter takes a deep breath, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder. He sniffs as Tony pats his shoulder.

“I want to make it up to May, too. I _have_ to. She's all I have left and I messed it up,” he whispers.

“She still loves you, nothing’ll change that,” Tony easily reassures. Peter knows it's true, but that doesn't stop the guilt from sitting in his stomach.

“She loves daffodils and blue hydrangeas. She says the blue and yellow contrast is her favorite,” he recalls. Tony smiles slightly at the kid’s thoughtfulness.

“Flowers we can do, no problem.” Peter nods against Tony’s shoulder and the two fall into silence. Neither of them make an effort to move. Peter just lets himself be comforted by Tony, who rarely does the whole physical contact thing. Finally, Tony speaks up, “Remember that maroon, silk suit that was two thousand dollars? The one you liked but thought you could fake not liking it to buy that cheap ass tux?” It takes a moment of recollection, but Peter nods in affirmation. “Good, ‘cause I bought it as soon as we left the store.”

“You _what,_ ” Peter demands, shooting upright.

“I said I-”

“I can't believe you _bought_ that! You can't just do that!” Peter argues, even though the suit is already paid for. He stands up and starts to pace.

“Technically, I can do anything I want. I'm Tony Stark,” Tony casually reminds.

“No no no, May’s gonna kill you for spending that much money on me and then she's gonna kill _me,”_ Peter rambles, frantically trying to relay his panic.

“Fine,” Tony gives. Peter looks back at him, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “If it makes you and your aunt feel better, I'll just say I bought you the suit for my own health. Happy?” Tony easily settles. Peter groans and sits back down on the couch.

“That's not how it works,” he counters.

“Sure it is. Now, go get changed and we'll head out. The suit’s in your room’s closet.” Tony pats Peter's shoulder encouragingly. Peter just looks up at him with hesitation. “Oh, c'mon! Loosen up. Let me splurge on my favorite intern.”

“Flattery doesn't work on me like it does on you. And you told me to never let you ever use the word ‘splurge’ again.” Peter’s tone has lightened up ever so slightly, but he still can't help his thoughts from going back to the mother. It's all he can think about.

“You're right, I still hate that word.” Tony visibly shudders and stands up. With a huff, Peter listens and walks to his room to find the suit. Just like Tony said, the sheen, maroon suit is neatly hung in the closet. He still can't believe Tony actually got it for him, but in hindsight he supposes he should've seen it coming.

He looks in the mirror after he puts on the suit and can't deny that it actually looks good. If he weren't so self-conscious, he'd feel more confident about leaving the room wearing it.

“Looking spiffy, kid,” Tony compliments before they go down to the garage. Peter continuously fidgets with his sleeves and nervously bites the inside of his lip. Would a nice suit, some flowers, and an apology really make May feel better? “Jeez, relax a bit,” Tony urges as they get into the Cadillac.

“I can't help it! It's stressful!” Peter defends, clearing his throat when he realizes his voice went higher. Tony snickers at Peter’s defensive tone without regret, earning him a glare.

It's a short ride to the flower shop where Peter handpicks a bouquet made up of yellow daffodils, periwinkle hydrangeas, and a sprinkling of white daisies. Luckily, for Peter’s sanity, the bouquet isn't too expensive. What kicks his anxiety into overdrive is waiting in the car outside his apartment. He tightly grips the bouquet in his hand. _What if she doesn't want to talk to me? What if she's so disappointed that she doesn't want to see me? What if she doesn't forgive me? No, she loves me. She wouldn't do that. You're thinking too much. Remember what Mr. Stark said about overthinking things. Don't do it. Just walk inside and apologize. Yeah. Easy. Jeez, this sucks. Am I still overthinking? Does overthinking about overthinking count as overthinking?_

A hand on Peter’s shoulder almost causes him to jump out of his skin. He whips around to face Tony and lets out a shaky breath.

“Deep breaths,” Tony instructs, making sure Peter doesn't slip into a panic attack. Peter follows Tony’s exaggerated breathing, focusing on the rise and fall of his mentor’s chest. He nods, trying to calm down despite his growing embarrassment.

“Sorry,” Peter whispers as his breathing slows. Thankfully, he’s able to get himself back under control.

“Don't apologize. You’ve got this. You want me to go up with you?” Tony forces the offer out. Peter can tell that just the thought of being near the Parkers during an emotional discussion makes Tony beyond uncomfortable. Still, he offered. To Peter, that means a lot.

“No, it’s okay. I have to do this.” Peter nods a few times, gathering a bit of foreign confidence.

“Good job, kid,” Tony says nonchalantly as he pats Peter’s shoulder. Peter gives him a small, grateful smile and takes a moment to compose himself. He gathers his very few comprehensible thoughts until he comes up with a semi-solid plan. Then, he steps out of the car and heads inside the building.

As usual, he takes the stairs instead of the elevator and treks up the seven flights. He eagerly gets out some of his nervous energy by jogging up the steps. When he reaches their apartment door, he anxiously fixes some minor wrinkles in his overly expensive suit and fiddles with the bouquet to make sure the flowers are perfect. With a reluctant hand, he knocks on the door. He can hear May start to walk from the back of the apartment towards the door, his super hearing making him hyperaware of the creaking of the floor under the light tapping of her flats. May opens the door, her eyebrows raising and eyes instantly widening in surprise.

“Hey,” is all Peter can manage. He holds out the flowers shakily to his aunt.

“Oh, thank you,” May chirps as she gently takes the bouquet. She moves off to the side, smelling her flowers, so that Peter can come inside. After Peter walks in, May gets a vase for the flowers and displays them on the kitchen table. “You certainly look handsome in that suit. I love daffodils and hydrangeas,” she hums. Peter breathes a quiet sigh of relief. This is going well, right? “So, do I need to mentally or emotionally prepare for this talk?” May asks right off the bat. She turns around to face him, her hands patiently resting on her hips. Peter saw this coming.

“Well, um, I mean…neither? Hopefully? But both, realistically…” he rambles, wringing his hands together.

“Alright,” May moves to sit on the couch, “lay it on me.” Peter takes a deep breath and sits beside her.

“I'm sorry for lying and keeping things from you again,” he starts. “I won't do it again and you deserve an explanation.” He keeps his eyes on his lap, worried that if he looks up he’ll lose what's left of his composure. He tries to find a place to start. “Um, so, how much do you know about the warehouse?” May nods and thinks back as Peter does his best to keep calm.

“Well, you told me that lunatic was Liz’s dad, so I'm assuming he's the one who did it.” May keeps her tone light but firm, careful not to trigger a reaction from Peter.

“Yeah,” Peter confirms.

“How bad?” May asks hesitantly, despite already knowing the answer.

“PTSD, apparently.” They sit in silence for a few moments.

“I saw the warehouse on the news and it just…clicked. You came home covered in grime and dust. I wish I had put it together sooner.” May takes a deep breath and crosses her legs. “I couldn't stop thinking about how I'm supposed to protect you and be there for you and,” her eyes become glossy. “I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't gotten out of there.” She sniffs and brushes the tears off her cheeks. Peter realized a long time ago that nothing is more painful than seeing his aunt cry. Knowing that he caused the tears makes it even more soul crushing. “I can't live without you, Peter. I love you way too much,” she laughs as more tears fall. “And knowing that you go out every night where something like that could happen all over again…and I wouldn't be there for you…” She doesn't finish, all she does is press her lips together and shakes her head, not even wanting to entertain the idea. Peter feels his own eyes well up with tears.

“I love you too, May. I just didn't want you to feel like this if you didn't have to. If I could make you worry about one less thing, then it made sense at the time. Obviously it didn't work and made things more complicated, I just…I didn't want you to think you were gonna lose me too.” And that's really the root of the issue, isn't it? They both have the same fear; losing their last family member. All they have is each other. They're always painfully aware of the fact that they're the last living Parkers. “You do such an amazing job being there for me, like, all the time and I thought I could look out for _you_ for once. That…backfired. A lot.” Peter sighs and rubs his hand down his face. He lays his head on his aunt’s shoulder, listening to her breathing.

“I understand, but I want you to have faith in me. In our relationship. We’re a team. It's just you and me,” May whispers. “You don't have to go through it all alone.” Peter wraps his arms around her, his own tears falling.

“I'm so sorry.” His voice cracks and he means the apology with every fiber of his being. “I, I want you to know that even though your my aunt…you're the closest thing I've ever had to a mom.” May tenses and Peter can tell she's trying to hold back her emotions at his admission.

“Peter-”

“No, it’s true,” he interrupts before she can disagree. “And I'm _so_ unbelievably grateful for you. You're, you're so accepting of what I do and you help me with everything. You make sure we have enough food, take double shifts, take care of me when I'm sick, make me leave the house and go to parties even when I wanna be antisocial, tell me the hard truth when I need to hear it, teach me how to dance and talk to girls, leave handwritten notes in my backpack, have movie nights with me…I couldn't ask for a better mom. I don't know what I'd do without you.” May has a hand pressed against her mouth as tears flow over her fingers. Peter hugs her tighter to offer as much comfort as he can, and of course she holds him just as tightly.

They hold each other until both their tears gradually slow to a stop. Both of them are exhausted and Peter hopes that they can finally just relax with some TV or a nap. Unfortunately, May speaks up instead.

“It's not your fault, sweetheart,” she softly mumbles into his hair. Peter is confused for a moment until she continues. “It's not your fault, just like Uncle Ben wasn't your fault.” Those simple, heartfelt words are enough to send Peter back into hysterics.

“I tried _so_ hard to get to her. Everything hurt and I just couldn't move any faster. I _tried,”_ he openly sobs for the first time following the incident. He knows he's safe in May’s arms, so he lets all his defenses drop. “And, and that boy was _me._ The way he looked at his, at his mom and expected her to get back up. That was me with my, my parents and then Uncle Ben. He was, he was right in front of me, May. I saw him and the hallucinations made me hear him. I've, I've dreamt about hearing his voice just one last time…but I didn't want it to be like _that.”_ He cries into May’s shoulder and she keeps rubbing his back, consoling him like she always does.

“I know, baby. You shouldn't have had to hear that. I'm so proud of you.” Peter hiccups through his cries.

“That boy _begged_ for Spider-Man to help him and I, I just-”

“We don't do that in this house,” May cuts him short. “We went over this after Ben. We don't blame ourselves for things that were out of our control. Ben wasn't your fault, and neither was that woman. She did what any mother would have done in that situation. Tragedies happen, Peter, but that doesn't make them your fault. You can't stop them all, baby. No matter how many radioactive spiders munch on you.” She holds Peter’s head with one hand and rubs his back with the other. Peter can't help but feel guilty for cherishing in her comfort.

“I don't deserve to be called a hero if I can't save people. I don't deserve it. How can I be happy knowing that I caused someone's death? And that boy’s gonna grow up without a mom? I know how painful that is. I shouldn't, I shouldn't be allowed to be sad, not when a kid lost his mom last night.” Peter tries to talk more, but his throat constricts with a sob.

“Listen to me,” May orders softly, “saying you can't be sad because other people have it worse than you is like saying you can't be happy because other people have it better than you. Do you understand?” If Peter were being honest, he'd think May makes a good point. He shouldn't be basing his worthiness of happiness based on other people. He knows that he's selfless, but it doesn't make sense to wallow in self-pity. Not when he knows he can help.

“Thanks, May,” he whispers in her soft coat.

“Always.” May kisses the top of his head and smoothes down his hair. “How about we eat way too much junk food that it spoils our dinner and watch some TV?” she offers, a hint of humor in her voice. Peter chuckles lightly.

“That sounds awesome.” As May is about to get up, Peter holds her tighter. “I know I said this already, but I love you.” May sighs fondly and holds her kid closer.

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love a family ٩(●ᴗ●)۶  
> Four chapters left!
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	32. That One Training Montage in Every Movie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW ARE THOSE WHO HAVE SEEN FAR FROM HOME FEELING???? NO SPOILERS HERE OR IN THE COMMENTS <3 I FEEL LIKE THE WHOLE THING WAS A FEVER DREAM,,,,,
> 
> Back to our regularly scheduled update, I have a loooong chapter for you all today!! I'm SUPER excited for this chapter because it was a lot of fun to write. No trigger warnings, but we have a smidge of emotion as always ;) I don't want to get too emotional before the end of the fic, but I have to say I've absolutely loved this experience and I adore every single one of you :)
> 
> Also! I made an Instagram account solely dedicated to fic related content since some seemed to want it: @Kevy_Fanfics. Have fun and stay safe❤🧡💛💚💙💜

Peter doesn't sleep that night, but not for lack of trying. May makes him some chamomile tea to help relax him, but it doesn't work. He's too anxious about what he's planning to do and it keeps him up all night. He tries taking a shower, listening to music, talking to Karen, but nothing helps. He briefly debates waking up May, but she needs as much sleep as she can get for her shift tomorrow. Instead, he lies in bed and powers through the night. They decided that he would take the school day off, since he doesn't have any major exams, and recover from the past few days.

 _Maybe an all nighter isn't the best way to recover,_ he thinks absentmindedly around six in the morning. With nothing else to do and boredom consuming him, he decides to get up and make himself and May breakfast. He settles for making a big bowl of scrambled eggs and a plate of several pieces of bacon. May is surprised when she walks into the kitchen, but doesn't oppose Peter’s kind gesture.

“Are you ready?” May asks, carefully gauging Peter’s facial features. He looks tired, but she’ll be sure he gets enough sleep tonight. Peter nods as he swallows his food.

“As ready as I can be for this kind of thing. I just feel like I owe it to him, y’know?” May smiles.

“I know.” She does, because working in an ER where patients can't always be saved gives her the same feeling. She just wishes she could be there for each family that experiences a loss.

“Thanks, May. I think I’ll swing there. Should I bring something? I mean, going empty handed feels so…” Peter trails off, not exactly sure how to explain.

“Shitty?” May supplies, earning a chuckle from Peter.

“Yeah, I guess so.” There's a beat of silent before Peter speaks again “What if he hates me?” he whispers. May rubs her nephew’s shoulder, providing more comfort to him than she realizes.

“Being there for him already shows how much you care. Have you talked to Tony?”

“Yeah, he said he’ll meet me there. He sent me the address.” Before bed, Peter and Tony talked over the phone about a favor. Of course, Tony was immediately on board despite Peter’s obvious anxieties. Peter hates that he asked Tony for money, but it isn't for him so he doesn't feel quite as guilty.

“Are you sure you don't need me to come?” May double checks. She’s worried about how going through this will affect Peter.

“I'm sure. I don't want you to miss anymore shifts. I’ve got it. I’ll call you if I need anything, I promise.” Peter gives her an encouraging smile to help get rid of some of her worries. She returns his smile without a second thought.

“You're doing a good thing,” she assures. Peter does his best to believe it.

They finish their breakfast not too long after and May heads out of the apartment before Peter changes into his Spider-Man suit.

“Good morning, Peter.” He could almost cry the second he hears Karen’s voice greet him.

“Hey, Karen. It’s great to have you back,” he says honestly as he climbs out the window.

“Glad to be back,” Karen replies, sweetly. Peter missed her so much. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Oh, well it’s a bit different today. But first, can you make sure no criminals are out doing…criminal things?” Peter requests. He jumps from the side of his apartment and starts swinging from building to building down the street.

“There isn't any criminal activity showing up on my scans. If I can ask, what is it that we’re doing when you should be on your way to school?” Karen asks curiously.

“I'm off today,” Peter answers truthfully. “Ned and MJ are gonna send me the homework I miss. What we’re doing…isn't gonna be fun but we have to do it. Can you pull up the address that Mr. Stark sent to my phone?”

“Of course.” Karen puts a marker on Peter’s HUD and he starts following the directions to Lower East Side, Manhattan. “Does this happen to have anything to do with the events of Monday evening?” Peter knew the question was coming, but he doesn't know why it causes his anxiety to spike.

“Yeah, it is.” He takes a deep breath and focuses on shooting his webs.

“I hope that Tony Stark is aware of what we’re doing. Last time he found out you were doing things behind his back, he got very angry. I don't want either of you upset.” Even as a User Interface, Peter realizes that Karen is more considerate than a good percentage of the human population.

“He's meeting me there, don't worry,” Peter chuckles.

For the rest of the brief trip, Peter catches Karen up on everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours. As always, she's supportive of Peter and fully engaged in the conversation until he lands next to a dark gray Audi. If there were any possible doubt in Peter’s mind that this wasn't Tony's car, the mustard yellow licence plates read “Stark 65.” Peter knocks on the driver’s window, which immediately lowers to reveal Tony's red lense sunglasses and impartial face.

“Real inconspicuous, Mr. Stark,” Peter points out sarcastically. Tony simply shrugs his shoulders and gestures for Peter to move away from the door so he can step out.

“Hey, might as well travel in style. How ya feeling, kid?” he questions as he straightens out his suit. Peter nods, his mechanical lenses making noise as they adjust.

“Good, good.” Tony stops what he's doing to raise an unconvinced eyebrow. “Okay, I'm feeling pretty terrible.” Peter rubs his face, just wanting to rip his mask off. Sweat is starting to dampen the inside of his mask as he anxiously fiddles with his web-shooters.

“Pete-”

“No, I can do this. I just…have to pull it together.” Peter sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than he is Tony. Although he can see how nervous the kid is, Tony knows this is what Peter wants to do. Needs to do.

“Alright, let's get this show on the road.” Tony shuts his car door and beeps it locked. “Ready?”

“Yeah, let's do it.” They walk up to the six story, pale yellow, brick apartment building with “153” labelled above the door. Peter awkwardly walks inside, Tony meandering behind him, and walks up to the intercom system.

“Apartment number 1C,” Tony supplies before Peter can ask. Peter presses the call button with a shaky finger. He swallows, anxiously anticipating the answer. A rough, masculine voice greets him,

“Hello?” Peter almost can't respond, his throat constricting out of pure nervousness.

“Um, hello, sir,” he greets lamely.

“Who is this?” the man asks tiredly. Peter’s heart clenches.

“I'm, I'm Spider-Man and I was wondering if-”

“C’mon, man,” the man interrupts. Maybe Peter should've opened with something more believable. “I can't do this today. Go prank someone else. I got kids to take care of.” Peter can tell the man is about to leave him hanging.

“Wait wait wait! Sir, please! I swear I'm telling you the truth,” His voice goes up an octave as he vainly tries to explain himself.

“Look,” the man’s voice is tighter, “I’m not in the mood to argue. I-” 

“Mr. Bennett, this is Tony Stark and my associate and I would like to have a brief word with you,” Tony jumps in, his impatience getting the better of him. All that comes from the other end is, presumably, stunned silence. “I assure you, it'll be worth your while.” The silence continues until the man, Mr. Bennett, clears his throat.

“Sure, of course. You can come on up,” he confirms before the call is cut. Peter looks up at Tony, quickly putting the pieces together.

“You…”

“Know his name?” Tony provides. “Yeah, I did some research. The kid’s name is Elijah, by the way.” Peter nods before heading up the stairs. His heart hammers with each step he takes, dreading the moment when he’ll have to face this family. But he knows this is the right thing to do. “You can do it,” Tony encourages once they're stopped in front of the door. Peter nods and hesitantly knocks. A tall, wellbuilt man with dark skin opens the door. He seems somewhat shocked that both Spider-Man and Tony Stark are actually at his apartment. Peter freezes for a split second. _How in the world am I supposed to talk to a man who just lost his wife?_

“Can I help you?” Mr. Bennett prompts politely, his voice audibly raw and eyes bloodshot.

“I, I wanted to…” Peter takes a steadying breath. “I'm so sorry about your wife, sir. I'm sorry that I couldn't save her.” Might as well just open up right out of the gate. “You probably know I was there and, and I saw everything and I wanted you to know…” He feels his eyes burn beneath the mask. _Pull yourself together, Peter. This isn't about you._ “Your wife-”

“Anna,” Mr. Bennett interrupts, sharply. Peter stops, the words caught in his mouth. “Her name was Anna,” he repeats softer. Peter immediately nods and amends his words.

“Anna did the bravest thing I've ever seen anyone do.” Peter desperately wants to give excuses. He wants to explain how he was drugged and couldn't move, how he tried so hard to reach Elijah, how he couldn't see straight to aim, how his muscles wouldn't work to save Anna. But that wouldn't help Mr. Bennett, so Peter continues. “And she did it without hesitation. Like any amazing mom would. She, she was a good person and I take full responsibility.” Peter chokes out his words, but somehow manages to keep his voice steady. Mr. Bennett is silently crying, tears running down his cheeks but his jaw set firmly.

“I don't need you to tell me how great she was. I _saw_ the great person she was every damn day of my life,” he counters through gritted teeth. The man stands in the doorway with his lip slightly trembling. Then, he says something unexpected. “But I don't blame you.” Peter’s mechanical lenses widen with his own.

“What?” he asks, barely audible.

“I saw the clips of you saving all those hostages,” Mr. Bennett explains. “Saw how much you did. My boy tells me everything you do, and even though you're the easiest to blame, I can't do that knowing you saved all those people.” His voice quivers as if he's on the verge of a breakdown. Peter wouldn't be surprised if the man did. “I sat for hours last night, holding my crying kids and wondering why the hell a superhero could save everyone on that building except for my wife,” Mr. Bennett's voice cracks. “But I had to remind myself that you're just as human as the rest of us.” Of course, Peter is full on crying at this point, but he's grateful that Mr. Bennett can't see. “It should've been me. We were all supposed to go together, but I had to work overtime and told ‘em to go without me.” Mr. Bennett chokes back a sob and tries to hold himself together.

“You can't blame yourself if you won't let me blame myself,” Peter reasons. Mr. Bennett presses his lips together and nods. “Sir, with your permission, Mr. Stark and I would like to pay for all the funeral expenses,” Peter offers. Better now than never. Tony reaches into his blazer and pulls out a crisp, white envelope and hands it to the man. Mr. Bennett's eyes widen with disbelief and carefully takes the envelope with a shaking hand as he covers his mouth with the other.

“Dad? What’s going on?” a smaller voice calls from further inside the apartment. Little, bare feet thud until Elijah comes into view, then he quickly hides behind his father. Still, the boy stares at Peter and Tony with wide, curious eyes. Peter’s heart beats faster at seeing the boy.

“Hey, Little Man.” Mr. Bennett rubs his son’s back to comfort him. Elijah’s eyes are just as red as his father’s. “I was just talking to-”

“Spider-Man!” Elijah exclaims. Peter expected a lot of things from the boy; tears, yelling, blaming. But he didn't expect the look of wonder and surprise that was on the kid’s face. Peter pulls himself together and kneels down to Elijah’s level.

“Hi, buddy. I'm…I’m so sorry,” Peter makes sure his voice is strong and unwavering. Elijah, however, tilts his head to the side.

“How come?” It's another thing Peter wasn't expecting. He thought it was pretty self-explanatory what he was apologizing for.

“Your mom,” he clarifies gently, but he quickly wishes he hadn't when fresh tears well up in Elijah’s eyes. Before Peter can backtrack, Elijah sniffs and speaks.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles. “I miss her voice and her hugs and her kisses and it’s not fair.” Peter swears his heart is ripped from his chest. His breathing stalls as he tries to think how to comfort the boy. Then it clicks.

“I lost my mom too.” The simple admission shocks Elijah out of his crying.

“You did?”

“Yeah. I was a little younger than you are. I know how much it sucks and how it hurts. Your dad's gonna be here for you, though. And you're gonna be here for him. Being together makes you guys stronger.” All Peter can do is hope that his words are helping.

“Like a team? Like the Avengers?” Elijah asks in a small voice. Peter nods slightly, smiling under his mask.

“Like the Avengers,” Peter confirms. “Stronger together.” He hears Tony shift uneasily from one foot to the other, but continues his focus on Elijah. “And it's okay to be sad.” Peter doesn't want the kid to think he has to be strong when he should be grieving. He's all too familiar with that.

“I know you tried your best,” Elijah hiccups, rubbing his damp eyes. “You're Spider-Man, so you always try to save everyone. Just like you saved Isaac.” Peter is at a loss for words.

“Isaac?” he asks, confused. At that moment, a young man walks up to the small group, not much older than Peter. Peter’s jaw drops and his mechanical lenses widen in surprise. This was the last thing he expected.

“That’d be me,” the teen, Isaac, says as he leans against the doorway.

“You're, you're _that_ guy!” Peter almost yells. “The one who didn't look both ways before you crossed the street!” He remembers it so vividly. It was the day he snuck out of the Tower to patrol and ended up stopping a car chase, which ended with Peter body-slamming a car to save the teenager. Isaac deflates a bit.

“Come on, man,” he whines slightly.

“You're lucky you're not still grounded,” Mr. Bennett chimes in. Peter is still whirling from the reveal. “You took on the full force of a car to save my kid. I saw what it looked like afterwards. Just the thought of it hitting Isaac…” The man trails off, obviously overwhelmed by the tragedy that his family is already going through. Elijah suddenly surges forward and wraps his arms tightly around Peter’s neck. Peter blinks in astonishment before returning the hug.

“I didn't get to say thank you,” Elijah explains. “Thanks for saving my big brother.” Peter holds the boy tighter, trying to provide as much comfort as he can with a single hug. A voice in the back of Peter’s head tells him that he doesn't deserve this. That he doesn't deserve the praise of a little boy who just lost his mom. He ignores the voice for now.

“Mr. Stark, I appreciate you wanting to help, but this is too much money,” Mr. Bennett speaks up. Tony raises a challenging eyebrow.

“You do realize who you're talking to, right?” He clarifies, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Yeah, but-”

“Then you know that I have plenty to spare.” He turns his attention to fixing a crinkle in his blazer. Peter notes that Tony still isn't the greatest at confronting emotional situations. Mr. Bennett takes a deep breath.

“Thank you.” He holds out his hand to Tony, who firmly shakes it without hesitation.

“My condolences,” Tony returns. Elijah lets go of Peter, giving him a small smile, and shuffles back to his dad’s side. As Peter stands, he sees that Isaac has gotten closer.

“Thanks, again. I appreciate it.” Isaac simply nods, but Peter can tell he means it. He can also tell that Isaac is trying to keep all his feelings at bay. Peter hopes that he lets himself grieve.

“Well, we’ll stop intruding and give you all space,” Tony insists before he clears his throat. He has reached his emotional limit for the year. Mr. Bennett nods his thanks again, then shuts the door as Peter and Tony walk back towards the stairs. Peter is finally able to take his first full, relieved breath. “Nice work, Mr. Parker. You did a good thing,” Tony mildly praises with his eyes straight ahead as they walk down to the first floor.

“I tried. I just hope it helped,” Peter replies honestly. That's all he wants.

“Trust me, kid. It did.” Peter smiles at Tony’s confirmation, feeling somewhat more assured. The pain and guilt won't ever stop, similar to Uncle Ben, but it feels like a start.

They decide to head back to the Tower for extra training time. Peter was already planning on training by himself, so he's happy to take Tony up on his offer. Tony drives back while Peter prefers his usual swinging.

“Hey, Karen? You there?” Peter asks when he's almost to the Tower.

“Always,” Karen assures.

“Can you text Ned and MJ for me, please? Let them know Mr. Stark and I are gonna be at the Tower training if they wanna come over after school.”

“Of course.” A minute later, Karen speaks again. “Contact name ‘Guy in the Chair’ has responded with ‘capital S, capital N, capital H, capital J, capital X, capital D, capital J, capital-’”

“It’s okay!” Peter interrupts when he can't take it anymore. “Keyboard mash, got it,” he mutters. Karen continues,

“Contact name ‘MJ’ has responded with ‘That’s a yes from both of us.’ Do you wish to respond?”

“Nope, that's good. Thanks, Karen.” Peter lands on the penthouse balcony, the glass doors open, and takes off his mask as he walks inside. He greets F.R.I.D.A.Y. before flopping on the couch to wait for Tony. A few minutes later, Tony walks out of the elevator with his phone in hand.

“I already told your lackies that I don't give a flying shit about your agenda. I don't have the slightest idea as to where Cap and his traveling circus is, so get off my back!” Tony throws jacket onto the back of the couch. Peter stares up at him, his eyebrow raised in a silent question. Tony simply shakes head, not unkindly, and listens to the voice on the other end. Then, he scoffs. “Oh yeah. Sure. I'll get back to you in five to seven business days,” he says sarcastically before ending the call. Peter watches him as Tony rubs his forehead.

“So…I'm assuming that was the infamous Secretary Ross?” Peter guesses, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Tony looks up at him with impassive eyes.

“Oh, I'm about ready to tear him a new one,” he admits, even though he'd rather be cussing up a storm. “That idiot wouldn't be able to see a hole in a ladder.” Peter can't hold back his laugh at Tony’s creative jab. Even though Tony’s fuming, Peter's laugh causes him to smile slightly.

“That was _great,_ Mr. Stark. I'm gonna have to use that on Flash.” Peter chuckles again, a wide smile on his face. Ned would definitely get a kick out of that comeback. Tony scoffs.

“That's plagiarism. Watch out, I'm not afraid to sue you.” His tone softens considerably, which is still somewhat foreign to Peter. “But nothing for you to worry about, kiddo. Let’s head down to the lab for some training.” Tony loosens his ties and throws it onto the couch alongside his jacket. Peter immediately bounces to his feet and grabs his mask before practically skipping to the elevator. Being as observant as ever, Tony doesn't fail to notice the pep in Peter’s step at the mention of training.

Once Tony sets everything up in the workshop and Peter is ready, a newly repaired Buddy rolls past Dum-E to stand beside his creator.

“Uh, are you sure we should still be doing this type of training? Last time I checked, Buddy is kinda…spontaneously combustible,” Peter recalls warily. Tony waves off his concerns and taps on Buddy’s metallic outer layer.

“Not a problem. I rewired his circuits with a aero-”

“Aerospace-grade electrical insulation! No _freaking_ way!” Peter exclaims and puts his hands on either side of Buddy as if it’ll help him see the robot better. “Did you use Teflon-Polyimide?! No no no, it has good cut-through resistance but it's got sucky flexibility. I bet you could use something like SSQ 21652! That'd be awesome! How'd you get the custom silicone-insulated construction for that?! That stuff is insanely flexible! Then again, that's used on the International Space Station, so that'd be a bit overboard. Maybe just Teflon since it's more flexible?! You’d just have to give up some of the cut-through resistance and…” Peter looks up at Tony, who surprisingly hasn't interrupted him yet, but also looks like it's taking every ounce of his self-control to not say anything. “I'm geeking out…” Peter realizes.

“I am confusion,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimes in with her admission, also managing to sneak in a Vine reference.

“It's Teflon. Good deductive reasoning. Sherlock would be proud.” Tony clears his throat and chooses to ignore F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s reference. “Don't worry, Buddy won't be going boom again,” he reassures.

“Oh, sweet.” Peter nods, thoroughly embarrassed from his earlier ramblings. “So, I get to face my old nemesis? Buddy 2.0?! The rematch of the century!” Peter challenges with his hands confidently placed on his hips. “But, uh…why are we having a rematch? I figured out how to trust my Spidey Sense to beat the holograms last time.” Tony shakes his finger in disagreement.

“That's where you're wrong, Little Einstein. You only figured it out while you were blindfolded. Figuratively. You get the gist.” He waves the whole thing off and starts up the holograms, many identical versions of Buddy flickering to life. “Do you want me to get that trademarked? ‘Spidey SenseTM?’ ‘Cause I can make that happen,” he offers with a straight face.

“That's…really not necessary, Mr. Stark. But thank you?” Peter declines with uncertainty.

“Killjoy. But fine, guess we should be productive,” Tony mutters. Peter silently concedes and puts on his mask again.

They only spend around an hour working with the holograms, since Peter seems to have gotten the hang of it. He doesn't react to any of the holograms, not even so much as a flinch, and relies solely on his Spidey Sense to anticipate Buddy’s attacks. After a few different iterations of the hologram training, Tony admits that Peter has mastered it and they move on to updating Peter’s web fluid formula. This was Peter’s idea, since Mysterio had a knack for using chemical abrasive to wear down his webbing. With a couple hours of trial and error, they finally manage to get the right chemical ratio to make the webbing more resistant to acid based abrasives. Tony then suggests they take a break for lunch.

When they finish eating, Tony leads the way to a new area of the Tower that Peter has yet to go in. Down past the Medbay and Party Deck floors, Peter is introduced to the Training Gym. It's not anything besides a wide, open space with mats and various equipment for training, but it's the kind of thing Peter wouldn't have ever had access to without Tony. Plus, it's way cooler looking than the school’s gym.

“Woah! This is awesome, Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaims, slowly spinning in a circle as he looks at the room.

“This is the dollar store, how good can it be?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimes in, as nonchalant as ever.

“Insult me or my Tower again and I'm kicking you both out,” Tony warns in a cool tone. Peter giggles like the immature doofus he is.

“Mr. Stark…it’s the good kush,” Peter completes the Vine reference between laughs. Tony doesn't even attempt to understand and simply rolls his eyes.

“Don't do drugs. And don't get too comfy. This training room has a lot of hardcore workout machinery and there's no way in hell you ever get to be down here without adult supervision. The last thing I need is to a find a decapitated teen from trying to use a bench press,” Tony grumbles as he trails behind.

He noticed during training and from some Baby Monitor footage, which isn't weird because it’s _his_ suit, that Peter’s hand-to-hand combat could use some work.

“You have good spider reflexes-”

“Spidey Sense,” Peter corrects.

“But if a guy dressed up for Halloween eleven months in advance can keep up with you,” Tony continues, ignoring Peter’s comment, “we need to get you better at fighting. That means punching and blocking and whatnot. No webs. No gadgets. That's cheating.” Peter huffs, but doesn't disagree.

“Fine. Then how am I doing this?” he asks expectantly. Honestly…Tony hadn't thought that part out yet. He was prepared in the workshop with the holograms, but that's because technology is his element. No matter where he is, as long as there's a way to build something he's fine. Combat training…doesn't really have anything to do with robotics or artificial intelligence.

“Well, I'll hook up the…punching bag. Yeah.” He tries to sound as sure of himself as always. Peter, on the other hand, notices the man’s uncertainty. Then again, Peter was never great on self-defense or combat. He supposes that he has no choice but to follow Tony’s lead. Besides, Tony is a genius, right? After Tony briefly struggles with lifting the bag, Peter steps in and easily hoists it up. Tony stares at him. “What did I tell you about showing me up?” he questions indignantly, though obviously joking.

“Sorry, old man. It happens to the best of us.” Tony is stunned into silence as Peter snickers from behind the punching bag.

“Excuse me?” Tony scoffs.

“I believe that's what the hip kids these days call a ‘sick burn,’ Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. smoothly informs with a hint of humor in her voice.

“This is it. This is how I die.” Tony throws his hands up. “I lived through three months in a cave and flying a nuke through an alien portal, just to die from a sarcastic teenager and my rogue U.I..”

“Poetic justice, if you ask me,” Peter says smugly.

“Not that this bonding moment isn't cute,” an annoyed voice cuts in from the elevator, “but it isn't cute and you're both wasting time by being unproductive.” Peter turns his head towards the elevator to see MJ and Ned walking towards him. Well, Ned seems to be more astonished by the spacious room they're than anything else. Tony narrows his eyes at MJ.

“Are you insulting my teaching abilities?” he questions with a raised eyebrow. MJ crosses her arms.

“Your ability to teach superhero related activities? No. Your ability to teach hand-to-hand combat? Yes,” she answers honestly. Tony opens his mouth, then closes it.

“It's scary how much you remind me of Pepper. Just more…” he trails off.

“Brutally honest while completely disregarding the feelings of others?” Peter instantly offers with a nervous smile, shrugging his shoulders.

“Basically,” Tony confirms with a nod.

“Dude, _this_ is where you train?!” Ned asks in awe, finally catching up with the rest of the group.

“Actually, we usually do that kinda stuff in the workshop. We finished up with Buddy and the holograms this morning,” Peter supplies with as much nonchalance as possible. Training with Mr. Stark still makes Peter giddy. However, all hope at nonchalance is shattered when Ned and Peter make sudden eye contact. Their eyes widen in realization.

“Band name,” they say in unison.

“That would be insanely good!” Peter continues excitedly.

“Buddy and the Holograms World Tour!” Ned practically shrieks and takes a step closer to Peter as the two best friends nerd-out.

“Focus, losers,” MJ interrupts, putting a hand on each of their faces and pushing them apart. She inspects the hung punching bag, then turns her scrutinizing gaze on both Peter and Tony. “I’m assuming neither of you knew that those are for boxing, not for combat training,” she concludes in a monotone voice. Tony, of course, gets defensive.

“I'm a genius, of course I know what it's for,” he counters with confidence. There's a moment of silence where everyone stares at Tony. He crosses his arms protectively across his chest. “Alright, I… _might_ have gotten my equipment mixed up. But,” he raises a single finger, “in my defense I don't need to practice punching when my fist is covered in titanium-gold alloy,” he states matter-of-factly. Peter slowly looks up at him, his face openly portraying how unconvinced he is.

“I'm not gonna argue with Iron Man,” Ned quickly announces, which causes Peter to whip around to face him.

 _“Dude!”_ Peter borderline scolds.

“You're my new intern. Welcome to Stark Industries,” Tony greets with a smile as if Ned is a completely different person. On cue, Ned’s eyes widen with awe.

“Yes, sir! Of course, sir!” He salutes Tony, almost making the man lose his composure and bust out laughing. “You salute your boss, right?” Ned whispers. Tony clears his throat before saying, as seriously as possible,

“Absolutely. You nailed it.” Ned smiles from ear to ear.

“You're out of the band. Buddy and the Holograms are going on tour without you,” Peter mutters, kicking at the floor. Tony rolls his eyes at the teenager’s pouting and lightly punches his shoulder.

“You guys going to keep wasting time or…?” MJ asks impatiently. Ned shuffles and Peter quickly snaps out of it to give MJ his full attention.

“Yeah! I mean, no! I'm, we’re, ready,” Peter stammers and nods multiple times. MJ raises an intrigued eyebrow, which only makes Peter’s anxiety worse.

“Could you fight before you got the spider bite?” MJ inquires.

“Well, no, but-”

“Then you don't know how to actually fight,” she immediately interrupts. “Some superhuman strength and agility doesn't mean you automatically know self defense.” Without giving Peter another chance to argue, MJ picks up a pair of padded, target gloves off a pile of mats and puts them on her hands. When she turns back towards Peter, she orders, “Hit me.”

“I'm sorry, what?” Peter blinks.

“By the way, those are called _boxing_ pads,” Tony points out, his ego obviously bruised. MJ shifts her eyes to him.

“I'm aware. They're also used as _training targets_ for learning self-defense in karate. Thanks for your input.” She then turns her attention back to Peter and raises her padded hands. “Now, hit me,” she challenges again.

“Look, MJ, I don't know if this is a good-” Peter is cut short by a padded target being thrust into his cheek and his legs being swiped out from under him. “Idea…” he finishes.

“Never underestimate your opponent. Focus. Eyes up.” She extends her padded hand, which Peter gratefully accepts, and hoists him up. With his pride knocked down a few pegs, Peter puts his mask back on and takes the training a lot more seriously.

MJ is a surprisingly good teacher throughout Peter’s training session. She teaches him how to properly redirect his opponent’s attacks, using their weight and power against them. This should come significantly in handy when facing Mysterio again. She also explains to Peter how he rarely uses his strength to stop incoming attacks, so she demonstrates how to effectively block while taking as little damage as possible.

Peter brings up how Mysterio is able to redirect even some of his more powerful punches, which is something that has been holding Peter back.

“He’s using your strength and speed against you. If you don't calculate every move you make, he’ll get the upper hand. Got it?” MJ illustrates after a few hours of straight training. Peter nods, taking a deep breath. Both she and Peter are soaked from head to toe in sweat, but they're both too stubborn and headstrong to take Tony’s suggestion of a break.

Tony and Ned have been watching the whole time from the sidelines, making sure neither of the two pass out during training. They both know Peter and MJ would push themselves to that point just to improve. MJ continues,

“Always use your webs, if you can, to amplify the power behind your attacks. If you can't, your first option should always be using your opponent’s strength against them. Makes your job a whole lot easier. He's been playing both you and Stark since day one.”

“Now wait just a minute,” Tony speaks up for the first time in a while.

“Time for you to get him back,” MJ continues as if Tony hadn't said a word. “As for actual attacks, always go for the weak spots to distract your opponent long enough to nail a better hit. Strike _through_ what you want to hit, it’ll give your punch more force behind it. And, fairly important in your case, don't overreact. Keep your mind calm. Panic and fear just causes irrational behavior and inaccurate reactions. Don't let this clown get inside your head again,” she orders as she wipes her damp forehead.

“Yeah, I think I got it,” Peter agrees while trying to catch his breath. “Thanks for all the help today, MJ. It means a lot.” He smiles genuinely. MJ shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Can't let you get killed so easily by that freak.” Her tone doesn't convey much, but the slight smile that follows her words says it all.

“Alright, kids,” a voice catches all of their attention. “As the CEO of Stark Industries, I can't have teenagers passing out from malnourishment and dehydration.” Peter smiles when he sees the ever pristine Pepper Potts walk in with a smile.

“Hey, Pepper!” Peter excitedly greets as he pulls off his damp mask.

“You need a shower,” Pepper all but suggests, yet still grins at him nonetheless.

“What I really need is a nap,” Peter admits, but he'd never have one. The last thing he wants is to waste time by sleeping. He stretches out his arms above his head.

“Well, if it's any incentive to take a break, I ordered food and snacks to be delivered to the penthouse,” Pepper informs casually. She knows she has won when both Peter and MJ freeze.

“Food?” Peter clarifies. Pepper nods.

“Vegan options?” MJ questions skeptically. Pepper nods again.

“Pepper, you're a literal angel,” Ned compliments, breathless.

“I know. If only Tony would admit that more often.” Pepper raises an eyebrow at Tony, who only raises his hands in defense. They all start walking to the elevator, following Pepper, and Peter walks between MJ and Tony.

“Thanks again,” Peter expresses his gratitude again.

“I've got your back, Parker,” MJ assures, her eyes straight ahead. Tony bumps his shoulder into Peter and laughs to cover up his nerves.

“I'm still a better mentor though, right Pete? Kiddo? Bud?” Instead of answering, Peter shoots him finger guns coupled with a smirk. Tony…isn't sure how to interpret that.

“Don't worry, Mr. Stark. You’ll always be eighth in my book!” Tony scoffs, completely taken aback.

 _“Eighth?!”_ Tony questions, not quite sure if he heard the kid correctly.

“Yep! May, Ned, MJ, Pepper, Colonel Rhodes, Mr. Delmar, Murph, then you.” Peter clarifies, knowing that it’ll get under Tony’s skin. If nothing else, it’ll take his ego down a few notches.

“I'm below the _cat?!”_ Tony demands indignantly. Peter flashes him an innocent smile, but doesn't respond. And, well, Tony should've seen that one coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MJ is our secret weapon! Three chapters left to go! Thank you for reading :)
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	33. Rated R for Retaliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating this fic is the ONLY reason I keep track of what day of the week it is. Hope you're all ready for this!! Got a very fun chapter for today and I'm excited for the build up as we get closer to the end of this fic. I'm not ready for it to end either, but happy with how it does :) Love all of you and your support as always❤🧡💛💚💙💜
> 
> No trigger warnings! Have fun, stay safe, and good luck to all those seeing FFH soon!

When Peter wakes up, he honestly debates staying in his extra warm bed. If he hadn't promised Ned and MJ that he would go to school, despite how sore he was after training, he would've just ignored his alarm. Plus it's a Friday, so he doesn't really have an excuse. Luckily, May surprised him with an electric heating blanket when he got home the previous night from training. It helped his cold, sore muscles recover even faster. He explained to May how he doesn't thermoregulate as well as he used to prior to the spider bite, but that was just one of the handful of drawbacks that are overshadowed by all the amazing things he can do.

As soon as he wakes up, he smells the pancakes being made. Regretfully, Peter stumbles out of bed half awake and slowly makes his way out of his room. He isn't sure if he should be concerned that May is using flammable batter or a flaming hot pan. Neither mix well with his danger prone aunt.

“How's my little spider in a blanket?” May greets as Peter waddles into the kitchen with his heating blanket wrapped tightly around him.

“I'm not little,” Peter argues, his voice muffled behind the fabric. He plops onto the couch, blearily watching May flip the half burnt pancakes onto plates.

“You get it? Like pigs in a blanket, but you were bit by a spider and you're actually in a blanket,” May explains with a wide smile.

“Thank you for making me painfully aware of your joke.” Peter might be coming off as grumpy, but it's not his fault he isn't a morning person. Unlike his aunt. Still, he can't deny that he loves seeing her so happy.

“You better laugh at my _hilarious_ jokes if you want to keep that blanket,” May suggests as she places their breakfast on the table. Peter sits up straighter at the mild threat.

“Ha! May, you're _so_ funny!” he laughs obnoxiously before bounding over to the table. May shakes her head, her smile never wavering.

“You better watch your sass, young man.” As they eat, they chat about whatever comes to mind until it's time for May to leave for work and Peter to catch the subway to school.

“Love you, May!” Peter calls behind him as he starts walking out of the apartment.

“Hold on!” May calls back. When she catches up to him, she pulls him into a tight hug and squeezes his head “Love you, too. Stay safe, alright? We don't know when that creep is going to show up again. He already attacked the school once.” Peter can tell that May is internally panicking after what happened with Mysterio the last time.

“I promise I'll be safe, okay?” Peter reassures into her shoulder. Finally, May lets go of him and sends him on his way.

During his short subway ride to Midtown, Peter’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He expects to see an excited text from Ned or an impatient text from MJ, not a casual message from Tony.

****

**_Mr. Iron Man_ **

Tony: _How you holding up, kid?_

Peter: _hey Mr Stark! im doing good_

Peter: _dont really want to go to school but ned and MJ are making me_

Peter: _not that i'd have the guts to skip out anyways_

Peter: _sorry! didnt mean to spam you_

Tony: _Don't worry about it. Just checking in. You and your gang still coming after school for training?_

Peter: _yeah i think so_

Peter: _are you sure we arent invading your privacy?_

Tony: _Nah, no problem. Besides, I have beautiful fuck all to do today_

Peter: _MR STARK! LANGUAGE!_

Tony: _English_

Peter: …

Peter: _you and May have the worst jokes_

Tony: _Mine are better than your Vines._

Peter: _thats literally blasphemous and i feel insulted_

Peter: _this isnt helping the fact that youre still eighth on my list_

Tony: _I'm offended._

Peter: _dont you have something bette to do than texting a teenager? Like helping run you company?_

Tony: _Bold of you to assume that I would ever actually choose to do my work._

Tony: _Now go to school so they can fix your grammar._

Peter: _it was just a typo!_

Tony: _Later, kid. Make good life choices._

Peter: _bye Mr Stark!_

****

Their conversation ends just in time for Peter to pocket his phone and step off the subway. His headphones stay in for the rest of the walk to school, until he spots Ned and MJ when he gets to school. As usual, they’re hanging around Ned’s locker as he shoves in his books and MJ impatiently waits with her arms crossed.

“How's it going, Parker?” MJ greets as Peter approaches. She’s only mildly interested, briefly glancing to him before looking back at Ned.

“Not super sore, May got me a heating blanket.” Peter shrugs his shoulders and opens his locker to pull out a textbook for his first class.

“Do we get to go back to the Avengers Tower after school again?!” Ned whispers excitedly. To him, the whole superhero best friend and Team Spidey training with Iron Man is a dream come true.

“Yeah, but it’s not Avengers Tower anymore, remember?” Peter reminds in a hushed, vaguely irritated voice. MJ snickers in amusement.

“We all know that as soon as the world starts to fall apart, the Avengers will stop whining and assemble all over again,” she says matter-of-factly. Peter has noticed that, even when she's in the middle of it, she never plays into the superhero drama. Ned, on the other hand…

“Are you sure? I dunno, Captain America and Iron Man had a pretty rough falling out. Didn't you see that airport on the news afterwards?! They trashed it! And isn't Captain America’s team, like, outlaws now? They wouldn't even be able to show their faces without getting arrested, let alone fight!” Ned continues his long-winded explanation as the group makes their way to their respective first periods.

“You really think Cap’s gonna let himself get arrested if the world is falling apart?” Peter asks, unconvinced. “And you do realize that you can call Mr. Stark by his name, right?”

“Says the one still calling him _‘Mr. Stark’_ and not ‘Tony,’” MJ cuts in to play devil’s advocate.

“It's respectful!” Peter quickly defends in a higher pitched tone. He internally berates himself for sounding like he's still going through puberty.

“Dude, you're just afraid to call him Tony,” Ned agrees regretfully. Peter turns his gaze on his best friend.

“Am not! Why is this what we’re talking about?!”

“Anyways,” MJ ignores the two boys, “do you want to hear the research I got done on your villain or not?” Ned and Peter immediately shut their mouths and give MJ their full attention. “Turns out there aren't many people who fit into the ‘fired, roboticist, chemist, fighter, magician’ category. Shocking, I know. I still managed to find an article about this guy who worked in the special effects industry. Amazing what you can find on the internet these days. It didn't say anything about so-called magic, but his speciality was apparently laser lighting, pyrotechnics, and theatrical fog.”

“Sounds a lot like illusions…” Ned mutters nervously. Peter slowly nods in agreement.

“He was also a stunt double,” MJ continues, “which would explain his hand-to-hand combat skills. He wasn't fired, but he quit his job in special effects to become an actor. When he was told he wouldn't make it as one, he threw a tantrum and left. Classy, huh?” She sounds casual as she relays the information, but she can see the wheels turning in Peter's head.

“What's his name?” Peter asks. Maybe if he knows Mysterio’s name, he can use it to his advantage.

“Quentin Beck,” MJ supplies. “He's been out of the business for a few months. The only reason he got an article written about him is because he worked for a major Hollywood studio.”

“Wait, so,” Ned narrows his eyes in confusion as he speaks, “this guy just quits his job and decides ‘hey, my job didn't work out guess I'll just become a _supervillain_ instead?’” he clarifies. MJ gives a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders.

“Most people in Hollywood tend to be self-entitled dicks,” is all she offers in response. Peter knows better than to argue with her.

“Okay, we might know who he is. Now what do we do?” Ned asks, and he has a good point. A name is nice to have, but how much does that increase Peter’s chance of beating Mysterio? Either way, he’ll take any advantage he can get.

“We use it against him, and we beat him. Thanks for the information, MJ.” He does his best to provide the confidence for the team. He knows they're all going to need it. MJ waves off Peter’s thanks as if it's no big deal. They stop outside Peter’s classroom and wait outside the door for the few remaining minutes.

“I mean, you can always push him down and hope his helmet cracks like Humpty Dumpty,” Ned suggests, trying to lighten the mood.

“That might work if his helmet weren't plexiglass and he were an egg,” Peter counters with a smile.

“He wasn't an egg,” MJ cuts in, earning her two skeptical looks.

“Of course he's an egg,” Peter says hesitantly. “It's all about him falling and cracking and being put back together.”

“The nursery rhyme never explicitly said that Humpty Dumpty was an egg. That’s just what we all assume,” MJ confidently states. Peter narrows his eyes and recites the whole nursery rhyme in his head. Ned must have been doing the same thing, because both of their eyes widen at the same time.

“No freaking way…” Ned mumbles.

“He's not an egg,” Peter realizes, the epiphany catching him off guard.

“It's not just that one. The ‘Jack and Jill’ nursery rhyme was about how King Louis XVI and his wife, Marie Antoinette, were beheaded during the French Revolution. That's why ‘Jack fell down and broke his crown, and Jill came tumbling after.’ They lost their heads.” Peter and Ned stare at her with wide eyes and baffled expressions.

“I'm never looking at nursery rhymes the same way again,” Ned admits with a gulp. On that happy note, the bell rings and the group is forced to go their separate ways for first period.

The morning classes go by smoothly, with nothing of consequence occuring by the time lunch rolls around. Peter, Ned, and MJ spend their lunch together in the cafeteria as usual.

“I'm just saying that Hulk can get bigger and stronger the angrier he gets! Imagine him getting _so_ angry that he's, like, the size of the Empire State Building! He could already take down that flying-alien-worm-thing when he wasn't super big!” Ned explains passionately. Peter looks between his friends currently engaged in the debate.

“If only you were this invested with Decathlon topics,” MJ points out. “Besides, Thor is a _literal_ god,” she contradicts.

“That won't matter if Hulk’s strength surpasses Thor’s and he punches him in the face,” Ned immediately counters with a confident grin.

“Thor can heal faster than the Hulk. Plus, last time I checked, the Hulk can't summon thunder and lightning.” MJ smirks smugly, making a good point with her argument. Peter can't believe that they're still arguing.

“Well, Hulk doesn't need some magic hammer to-”

“Mjölnir,” MJ instantly corrects. Of course, she has a straight face which only frustrates Ned more.

“Peter,” Ned whines, “you’ve met them! Which one’s stronger?” Peter internally groans. He doesn't want to be pulled into another one of their debates.

“Y’know, I don't think that’d be fair since-”

“Since you haven't actually met Thor _or_ the Hulk?” a annoying, pompous voice challenges. Peter slowly closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. _Why did it have to be Flash?_ he wonders briefly.

“You better watch yourself unless you want a repeat of last time,” MJ starts to threaten, but Peter cuts in before it escalates.

“You’re right,” Peter agrees with a knowing smile. Both Ned and MJ stare at Peter in disbelief. “I don't know Thor, but I do know Dr. Banner.” Peter watches as Flash’s smirk morphs into a frown of confusion.

“Oh yeah? Like you supposedly know Tony Stark?” Flash asks sarcastically, his voice loud enough to be making more of a scene in the cafeteria.

“Yep,” Peter pops the “p.” He has realized that the best way to get on Flash’s nerves is to give as little information as possible. Peter figured that out last semester when he floundered to try to defend himself. It only gave Flash more fuel to add to the fire.

“Sure, Parker. In your dreams. I bet I’d impress Bruce Banner more in real life than you could in your dreams,” Flash challenges while crossing his arms. Peter does his best to hold back a laugh.

“You think _you’d_ be able to impress Dr. Banner? You wouldn't be able to see a hole in a ladder.” Peter smiles sweetly, contrary to his words, and enjoys Flash’s shocked face. That’s until Peter’s Spidey Sense spreads a mild tingling sensation over his shoulders. _Danger?_ Before Flash can even think of a clever retort, the hushed whispers that were once directed towards them turn into panicked mutterings. Everyone is staring at their phones with mixed looks of horror and fascination. “Ned,” Peter prompts. Flash has completely lost interest in bullying and instead goes to look at his friend's phone.

“I don't know, I don't know,” Ned says as he frantically searches on his phone for any information.

“There's a livestream on Twitter,” MJ states as she turns her phone sideways so the three of them can see. “It's Times Square.” The video is blurry and unstable, as most handheld livestreams are, but Peter can still see all the malfunctioning screens in Times Square.

The commercials and advertisements glitch in a spectacle of colors and fade out with flying sparks. As soon as the ads disappear from every single Jumbotron, they're all replaced with the same image: Mysterio. Peter’s Spidey Sense amplifies. Even though the sound of yelling and stampeding crowds can be heard in the background, Mysterio’s voice still rings loud and clear.

“Hello, New York, and welcome to the show of the century,” Mysterio announces in a menacing tone. It's then that both Peter and Ned’s phones go off. Peter quickly whips his out to look at the screen, already knowing what it’ll to be.

****

**New York Police Department**

**11:43 am- Ongoing- Times Square, Manhattan, W 46** **th** **St, NY 10036, Cybersecurity Breach. Suspect armed and dangerous. No shots fired.**

**Public Safety**

**New York County**

****

“Holy crap, he hacked into Times Square!” Ned exclaims over the other students’ shouts that echo throughout the cafeteria. Peter’s inner geek caught between being in awe and horror. MJ stares at Ned and shows her shock for the first time, but Peter’s already up out of his seat.

“It’s fine,” Flash nervously declares. “Spider-Man can beat this dick. He’s a _real_ hero.” MJ narrows her eyes at his sudden comment.

“Weren't you saying last week how much of failure Spider-Man is?” she questions.

“Yeah, but I didn't actually mean it. I just did it to get under Parker's skin,” Flash admits with a shrug before following the group of students heading out of the cafeteria. Peter’s Spidey Sense is going crazy and everyone around him panicking doesn't help.

“I'm gonna get out while the teachers are dealing with the crowd,” he tells them as he hastily swings his backpack over his shoulder. “You guys head to the computer room, I'm gonna need your help during this.” MJ promptly stands at his words and calmly gathers her stuff to go. Ned, on the other hand, scrambles to get to his feet.

“But, but I have bad memories in there!” Ned tries to argue as he follows Peter and MJ running out of the cafeteria, in the complete opposite direction as the rest of the students.

“Just come up with a better excuse than porn if you get caught and you'll be fine!” Peter reassures absentmindedly. When Ned and MJ run around a corner towards the computer lab, Peter runs straight out the double doors of the school.

Peter sprints across the street, discreetly pulling out his suit as he does so. When he makes it to the familiar alley, he immediately webs his backpack to the adjacent brick wall and pulls on his suit.

“Hello, Peter. Is something wrong? According to your schedule, you should be eating lunch,” Karen greets as Peter slingshots himself out of the alley and into the air. He starts swinging as fast as he can toward Times Square, just hoping that bystanders are smart enough to run away from Mysterio.

“Mysterio! Bad guy! He's taking over Times Square!” Peter frantic explains through rapid breaths.

“That's less than ideal,” Karen recognizes. “Police are on their way, but it seems as though you’ll be arriving first. I've mapped the optimal route. At your current speed, ETA is three minutes.” At least Peter can always count on her help.

“Peter!” Ned’s voice suddenly yells into Peter's ear.

“We’re here. What do you need us to do?” MJ prompts, straight down to business.

“I need everything you can possibly get on that guy Quentin Beck. _Everything._ Ned, would you be able to, like, reverse hack Times Square? Kick Mysterio out and take back control,” Peter directs as he swings over the East River by way of the Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge.

“Of course I can, I'm your Guy in the Chair for a reason,” Ned declares confidently.

“On it,” MJ also affirms while typing. Peter starts to hear sirens in the distance as he swings closer to Times Square. He’ll be getting there first, so he has to make sure everyone is okay until the police get there to help control the crowd.

When Times Square comes into view, all the Jumbotrons are short circuiting and glitching out with bright orange sparks flying. People are getting out of their cars to stare at the screens while others run away from the menacing scene. Peter lands on the asphalt in a wide stance, staring up at all the flashing screens which make his head throb. Karen automatically lowers the amount of light able to filter through the lenses.

“Thanks, Karen.” Peter maintains his defensive stance. “Deploy Droney and have him scan for the real Mysterio in all this mess, please. Guess we’re gonna find out if the upgrade works!” Per his request, Droney is detached from the suit’s emblem and flies away to survey the area.

“My pleas-” Karen’s voice is drowned out by a sudden booming voice.

“The so-called hero swings in to save the day again,” Mysterio’s voice reverberates throughout Times Square, coming from every possible direction. “Except you weren't fast enough last time. Reveal your true self to the audience!” he commands. _Stay calm, Peter. Be confident. You can do this._

“If you want me to collab with you so much, you might not want to insult me,” Peter tries to reason with a lighthearted voice.

“Peter,” Ned’s voice comes through the suit, “getting into Times Square system should be pretty straight forward, everything’s connected.” Peter swings up and sticks to the side of one of the massive screens with one hand. “Mysterio probably swapped out the modular LED panels and just changed the entire display.” He keeps an eye on Droney’s footage as Ned continues. “I’ll go as fast as I can,” Ned informs after his ramblings.

“There’s nowhere you can run, Spider-Man. Not from what you’ve done. The people know the kind of person you _really_ are. Can't be a superhero without a following, hm?” Mysterio’s omnipresent voice challenges.

“Who’s running? I hate to break it to you, Fish-For-Brains, but people prefer a more optimistic, witty hero,” Peter counters effortly. Droney’s display still hasn't come up with anything conclusive on Mysterio’s location. _Guess I have to do this the old fashioned way,_ Peter thinks as he shoots a web to a higher screen across from him.

“I'm sure they much prefer a hero who can actually save people,” Mysterio responds in retaliation. When Peter lands at his higher vantage point, he scans the area below just to make sure people aren't sticking around. For the most part, the huge crowds are dispersing away from the immediate area.

“Looks like your audience isn't very enthralled,” Peter points out just as the police arrive on scene with their blaring sirens. “And the cavalry’s here!”

“Mysterio has been located,” Karen’s voice informs. Finally, Droney spots a heat signature on the ninth story of a building, behind the biggest LED sign in Times Square. _Great._

“Got it!” Ned shouts triumphantly. “Jumbotrons should be going down…now!” On cue all the screens flicker before featuring their previous advertisements.

“Awesome work, man!” Peter praises. All of a sudden, every single one of the screens turns bright green and a shrill beep resonates throughout the immediate area. “Uh, Ned? Why’d all the screens go green?!”

“I, I don't know!” Ned’s panicked voice answers. “Nothing’s showing up on my screen!” Peter can hear both his friend’s frantic typing in the background.

“If Ned isn't picking up the problem, it’s probably an illusion. Be careful. Stay sharp,” MJ’s practical voice cuts in. As Peter is about to respond, the screens in his view start to ripple from the center outwards like water. Then, a Mysterio begins to emerge from each and every LED screen. Including Peter’s.

“Woah!” he shouts in surprise, leaping away from the newly appearing version of Mysterio.

“What’s happening?!” Ned questions.

“Holy shit! It’s like that scene from _The Ring!”_ Peter exclaims, partly with shock, partly with fascination. He shoots a web to a nearby building and lands on an unoccupied car. He had gotten used to all the Mysterio clone illusions, but watching them crawl out of the screens brings the creepiness to a whole new level.

Each version grips the outside of the screens with their gloved hands to pry themselves out of the seemingly liquid surface as if they're being sucked in. Peter is surrounded by the overwhelming amount of Mysterios, some of which have already made their way out while others are only half way through.

“Mysterio must’ve set up hologram projectors everywhere.”

“That’s…commitment. I guess,” MJ grumbles. Peter takes a deep breath. _All I have to do is get past these clowns to get to where Droney says the real Mysterio is hiding out. Easy, right?_ He shoots a web from each wrist and slingshots himself up into the air.

Now the _real_ fight begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, the beginning of the end has come (;-_-)/ Thank you for reading
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	34. The Great Mysterio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you all believe...that there's only two more chapters to go? I'm so emotional?? The response on this fic has been absolutely stunning, and with amazing readers and supporters like you it really has been an amazing journey to take. UGH I'll save the rest of the sappy stuff for the last chapter :)
> 
> TODAY HOWEVER we have a freaking rollercoaster of a fight scene and trust me, I'm just as excited as you are!! We're all here cheering Peter and the team on! As always, I hope you have fun and please stay safe ❤🧡💛💚💙💜

As Peter swings towards the largest Jumbotron, all the multiple forms of hologram Mysterios lunge at him and try to slow his advances. Flashes of mainly green, purple, and gold blur his vision as the holograms phase through him. The now flashing LED lights from all the screens and wailing police sirens don't do anything to help his already bombarded senses. However, he doesn't let the disorienting holograms keep him from swinging straight towards Mysterio.

Droney’s view continues to show Mysterio’s location, who seems to have noticed Peter coming straight towards him and is now on the move. When Peter focuses solely on getting to Mysterio no matter what, the swarming illusions are pushed to the back of his mind. With a swift tug from each arm he rockets himself, feet first, the rest of the way and breaks through one of the ninth story windows. When he looks up, Mysterio is running towards a stairwell door.

“Oh no you don't!” Peter shoots a Taser Web to electrify the metal door handle. “I wouldn't touch that unless you want Frankenstein’s Monster’s Wife’s hairstyle,” Peter cautions before shoots a Splitter Web, which jam both of gas-releasing nozzles on Mysterio's shoulders. Then, he rethinks his words. “Assuming you have hair underneath all that glass.”

“You're persistent. How annoying,” Mysterio complains, gas still flowing from his boots.

“Perseverance is practically a superhero requirement. Just like good banter,” Peter shrugs nonchalantly. He spots the familiar liquid dripping from Mysterio’s shoulders, but it doesn't do anything to the new webbing.

“What?!” Mysterio demands as he looks to his still blocked nozzles.

“Hey, the new formula works like a charm! Sweet!” They didn't have much time to test it in the workshop, so Peter counts it as a win. Mysterio still chuckles deeply.

“I like an opponent who adapts to a challenge. See if you can keep up, Spider-Man!” Suddenly Mysterio is sprinting towards Peter at full speed accompanied by a powerful, metal coated fist.

“Use his strength against him,” MJ reminds. Ned probably hacked into the surveillance to keep an eye on the fight. Peter minutely moves out of Mysterio’s path just in time for the fist to fly past his face and imbed itself into the drywall with a puff of dust.

“Thanks, MJ,” Peter replies as he shoots a web to Mysterio’s head and yanks on it to slam his plexiglass helmet into the concrete as well. With Mysterio momentarily distracted, Peter takes his chance to web the other pair of nozzles in the villain’s boots. It isn't a second later that Mysterio frees his gauntlet from the drywall and goes right into his next attacks. Peter applies his training, redirecting the punches and trusting his Spidey sense when to duck or jump out of the way of an oncoming kick. Then, a voice cuts into the action.

“Your aunt is calling,” Karen notifies as May’s contact picture shows up on Peter’s HUD.

“Decline call!” Peter instantly says as he ducks.

“I don't think that's a very good idea, Peter,” Karen warns. It's true, but Peter can only handle so much.

“I can't talk to everyone at once! Last thing I need is an overprotective aunt worrying in my ear!” he tries to reason while blocking a blow and taking a few jabs to Mysterio’s ribs.

“She most likely won't stop calling unless she's provided with a response,” Karen counters right back.

“Then, uh, text her that I'm a bit busy with Spidey stuff and I'll call her back!” his voice cracks as he bends backwards to avoid a sudden laser. “Woah, forgot about those.” Since he's closer to the floor, he takes it as an advantage to spin his leg around and sweep Mysterio’s feet out from underneath him. Peter is about to celebrate, but Mysterio poofs into a cloud of smoke when he hits the ground. “Karen, infrared.” Peter’s vision lights up with blues, greens, and yellows, but no red Mysterio heat signature. _Cheap trick_.

The room suddenly fills with Tony Starks.

Peter freezes.

_Uh oh._

“What happened to all that vibrato?” Mysterio’s deep voice resounds throughout the room. _It's not real, it's not real._

“It’s okay, Peter. They're just holograms! You got this!” Ned encourages. Peter takes a slow breath and instead tries to focus on spotting where Mysterio is hiding like the coward he is.

“What are you even trying for, exactly?” One of the many Tonys questions, the voice echoing. Peter ignores it and continues his search.

“You've fought this guy, what, four? Five times now?” Another asks as Peter walks through them.

“Why can't you just _beat_ him already? Stop wasting my time!” That's when the chaos ensues. All the different Tonys shouting reverberating insults over each other, directed at Peter.

“Worthless!”

“I should've kept the suit!”

“I knew you didn't have what it takes!”

“Disappointing!”

“You’ll never be good enough to be a hero!”

“Give up!”

Peter ignores them all, because he knows what Tony thinks. He knows Tony is proud of him. Cares about him. He'd never say these things. They aren't real. They aren't the Tony he knows.

It's then that he spots Mysterio on the ceiling right before the villain uses a laser to completely cut out the door handle. While ignoring the various Tonys and their continuous shouts, Peter shoots a web from both web-shooters at Mysterio’s back. Just as Peter tugs on the webs to pull him down, one of Mysterio’s lasers cuts through the webbing. Peter flies backwards from the sudden shift in weight and almost crashes to the ground. He quickly regains his balance, but it's still enough time for Mysterio to jump off the ceiling and run through the door.

Peter doesn't waste another second and shoots a web to each side of the doorframe and pulls himself through it, thankfully leaving behind the Tony illusions. As soon as he's in the stairwell, he sees the flourish of Mysterio's dark purple cape as the villain runs up to the next level of stairs. Peter starts webbing his way up the stairs in pursuit to either catch up with him or get a clear shot.

“Does this go straight to the roof?!” Peter asks as he rounds another landing. MJ is the first to answer.

“Um,” she pauses, “yeah. According to the blueprints.” Peter vaguely wonders how Ned and MJ manage to find this convoluted information so fast.

“Fantastic,” Peter responds sarcastically. He shoots a web with a free hand as he sprints up the stairs aimed at Mysterio's back. At the last moment, Mysterio sharply turns up the next flight of steps and Peter's web sticks to the wall. Still, Peter pulls on it to gain more momentum.

 _Of course I miss. I wonder how long it'd take me to make webs that defy the laws of physics._ The random thought triggers an idea, and he hopes it works as well as he thinks it will. He stops his chasing for second to properly aim a Ricochet Web at the wall. If his angles are _just_ right…

He shoots the web, which ricochets in a zigzag pattern from wall to wall until it collides and expands all over Mysterio’s helmet.

“Yes!” Peter exclaims, shooting a regular web at the upper railing and pulls himself up to Mysterio’s level. He capaults himself upwards and kicks Mysterio square in the chest, causing the villain to fly into the wall. Peter backflips off of Mysterio and goes in for a punch to attempt breaking the glass helmet. However, Mysterio quickly catches Peter’s fist, slams him into the concrete wall, and throws him down the center of the stairwell.

“Peter!” both Ned and MJ yell in sudden alarm. Peter calmly shoots a web, which attaches to a railing and stops his decent.

“You guys act like I don't have web-shooters,” Peter responds playfully before shooting a web from his free wrist and hoisting himself back towards the top. Now he has to catch up to Mysterio all over again.

“Don't scare us like that!” Ned scolds.

“It wasn't on purpose!” Peter defends, catching a mere glimpse of Mysterio before the villain exits onto the roof. Of course, Peter isn't far behind. He bursts through the door leading to the roof, only for his Spidey Sense to go off. Without hesitation, he ducks right before a laser flares over his head. “Getting a bit predictable,” Peter hums, shooting a Splitter Web to attach to Mysterio’s boots. He yanks on the webs to get Mysterio off balance, but as soon as the villain hits the ground he's nothing but a cloud of smoke. “What the- but I took out your gas!”

“Peter? What's going on? We don't have eyes up there,” MJ questions as calmly as she can.

“My abrasive didn't work,” Mysterio’s deep voice provides, coming from no direction in particular, “but lasers cut through your webbing like a dream.” The gas starts to spread over the rooftop.

“Bubble Brain has his gas back,” Peter informs his team. “Karen, how's the suit holding up?” He focuses all his attention on his Spidey Sense considering the lack of visual clarity.

“Suit integrity is at ninety-nine percent and airflow is free of any contaminants,” Karen supplies and pulls the numbers up on Peter’s HUD. His Spidey Sense explodes in the back of his skull and he acts on instinct, using his webs to pull him forward out of Mysterio's reach. Mysterio's fists pound into the concrete and sends chunks of rock flying up.

“You call yourself a hero, but you run like a coward,” he antagonizes.

“Awe, that stings, man,” Peter comments halfheartedly as he shoots Rapid Fire Webs at Mysterio’s wrists. He’s hoping to simultaneously clog the nozzles and knock some sense into Mysterio. Web after web is fired from his wrists, accumulating over Mysterio’s wrists. He then preemptively shoots a Web Grenade at the stairwell bulkhead behind Mysterio. “It really does,” he adds.

Mysterio recoils from the impact, but then instantly cuts through the webbing with his lasers. On cue, the Web Grenade explodes, encasing Mysterio in a cocoon of webbing from behind. Just as Peter rushes him, an image of Tony flashes into existence right in between them. Peter knows it isn't real, but it's just shocking enough for him to falter in his attack.

“Sentimental, are we?” Mysterio questions before breaking free of the webbing and taking advantage of Peter’s momentary stupor. Just as Peter regains his wits to actually raise a hand to shoot a web, Mysterio punches him in the jaw. It shocks him, but it isn't painful and he quickly recovers…then a supercharged, magnetic kick sends him flying over the edge of the rooftop. His body ragdolls through the air, away from Mysterio and towards the ground.

Peter is briefly stunned and his brain doesn't catch up until his back is crashing through a nearby building. The concrete crumbles around his impact and he smashes straight through two separate walls. When his momentum finally stops, he tumbles to the ground with a loud thump. His body throbs with pain and he weakly tries to push himself up. Dust floats through the air and coats his suit.

“Oh my god, what's happening? Peter? Can you hear us? Are you okay?!” Ned’s panicked voice pushes past the ringing in Peter’s ears. Peter coughs and blinks his eyes to clear them, the lenses blinking with him.

“That one’s gonna leave a mark,” he mumbles and slowly gets to his feet. “I'm good. How's the research going, MJ?” A thundering crash sounds above him, presumably from a certain magician-themed villain.

“We should have enough to get under his skin. I'll transfer all the info to Karen,” MJ updates just as Mysterio crashes down to Peter’s level.

“Oh, hey! I was wondering when you'd join me! Just doing some remodeling real quick,” Peter cheerfully greets with a mild wince.

“I'm sure the city will love what you’ve done with the place,” Mysterio mildly threatens while raising his hands for more gas to flow out. Before too much is released, Peter webs a chunk of broken concrete and flings it at Mysterio’s dome head. If he can break or even just crack the glass, then Mysterio can't use his gas for hallucinations or illusions.

The concrete breaks apart on impact with the dome, but Peter then immediately shoots a web while Mysterio is caught off guard. It sticks to Mysterio’s chest and Peter swings him into a concrete support column with a grunt of effort. The force is enough to crack the concrete, but Mysterio’s suit and helmet remain in contact.

“Hey, guys? How much force does it take to break plexiglass?!” Peter asks as he runs and kicks through the concrete column to kick Mysterio in the abdomen.

“Uh, approximately eighteen thousand pounds of force per square inch,” Ned answers promptly. Just before Mysterio flies out the gaping hole that Peter made when he crashed through the building, Peter shoots a web to pull him back into the jagged edges of the broken column. Mysterio’s helmet pings off the concrete, but doesn't so much as dent even with the added velocity.

“Perfect,” Peter huffs and replaces his web cartridges. “Can I even punch something that hard? That’s, what, eight _tons_ of pressure?” He shoots a web, hoping to start containing Mysterio. As soon as the web adheres to Mysterio, the villain grasps it with his fist and harshly tugs Peter towards him.

“8.0357142857 tons,” Karen cuts in to correct as Peter is pulled through the air. Mysterio catches Peter’s face with his massive gauntlet.

“Thanks, Karen,” Peter’s muffled voice responds. He grips Mysterio’s hand to pry it off, then blindly shoots a Web Grenade. When it explodes, Mysterio drops Peter to claw the sticky webbing from his face and arms.

“Yeah, but didn't you deadlift a warehouse?” MJ inquires casually.

“Well, yes, but-”

“How is this any different then?”

“I'm not being crushed to death!” Peter counters, his voice cracking, as he catches his breath. He leaps onto the ceiling and uses a Splitter Web to yank Mysterio up. Mysterio’s upper body crashes through the floor above them and Peter swings up to the next floor. Unfortunately, the plexiglass helmet is still intact.

“Mind over matter,” MJ rationalizes instead. Mysterio punches through the concrete and pulls himself up. Peter rushes the villain, his fist clenched and fingers pressed to his web-shooter, when all of a sudden a woman is standing between them.

It’s Anna. The woman who died.

Seeing her face again makes Peter feel like the wind is knocked out of him. He knows it’s not her, but the pure shock that courses through his body causes him to hesitate. Mysterio takes his chance to attack while Peter is frozen and punches through the illusion of the woman to hit him in the stomach. Peter sucks in a breath at the impact before his Spidey Sense goes off, but he doesn't react fast enough before a metal boot is connecting to his face.

He crashes through a drywall and goes tumbling across the carpeted floor, chunks of thick fabric and insulation being torn up with his impact.

“Seeing ghosts of the past, Spider-Man? People you couldn't save?” Mysterio confronts, walking towards Peter.

“Peter, are you okay?! At this rate, you guys are going to bring the whole place down!” Ned interjects worriedly. Peter groans, but shakily gets to his feet nonetheless.

“Just peachy. No problem, I’ll move the party somewhere else,” Peter assures in a whisper. He groans, but shakily gets to his feet nonetheless.

As soon as he's up, he's looking down the center of The Staten Island Ferry. His heart pounds.

“It’s just an illusion. It’s not real, it’s not real,” he attempts to remind himself. “I'm in a building in Manha-” Bright purple lasers slice through the center of the ferry, cutting it in half lengthwise. They leave behind orange, searing metal as the entire structure creaks and shifts. “This isn't real!” he yells, willing his senses to get back under control.

“How do you know?” Mysterio inquires deceptively. “How can you be so sure when _lives_ are at stake.” Peter can't pinpoint Mysterio’s voice, but it’s hard to pull his attention away from the halves of the ferry that are drifting apart. Water is starting to bubble up between them. “Are you going to let another person die, Spider-Man?” That’s when he hears the screaming of people above him. So many people screaming for help and to be saved…but his Spidey Sense alerts him to something behind him. It takes every ounce of his strength and reserve to ignore the cries for help, turn his back on the illusions, and catch a fist before it hits him in the face.

“Sorry, but the guilt train already left the station.” He flips Mysterio over his shoulder, only for the villain to vanish amongst the illusion. Peter doesn't give up. He starts running after Mysterio, but the illusion around him stands still. It’s like he's on a treadmill even though he can feel himself moving forward.

This isn't right. This isn't how things are supposed to work.

He takes a sharp turn in hopes that it will make a difference or at least get him out of this cycle, but then his Spidey Sense explodes before he’s slamming into a wall that he can't even see. With his eyes blinking, he rubs his head and takes a step back, only to feel the floor go out from underneath him.

He falls and falls and falls through the darkness until he's crashing through water, a splash sounding. Everything feels slowed down. He falls slower, but he's almost weightless and all the screaming ceases.

It's silent.

Then he's slammed back into reality, colliding with the unforgiving ground. His hip makes contact first, then his shoulder, and finally his head. Everything seems to blur out of focus, but his muscles won't let him stay down. Instead, he gets up to his elbows and knees, his head hanging tiredly towards the ground.

“C’mon, dude!” He hears Ned’s familiar voice first, filled with worry and concern.

“Parker? Can you hear us?” MJ demands, sounding like she has been trying to reach him more than once.

“Yeah! Yeah, it’s, it’s just-” Even Peter can start to hear the tremor in his voice. _Calm down. Deep breaths. It isn't real. You’ve got this, Spidey._

“Breathe and focus. Remember your training and trust your instincts,” MJ reminds with determination.

“Yeah! You’re the best superhero ever and this jerk can't change that!” Ned is quick to encourage. Peter smiles slightly underneath his mask. If his friends believe in him, he can do this. Still, his hip throbs as he moves.

“Man, this sucks,” he grumbles, pushing himself up with protesting muscles. “Thanks for the confidence boost. You guys are the best.” With restored conviction, he staggers to his feet on strong legs. A dark void still surrounds him, but it feels more bearable now that he remembers he isn't alone.

Life isn't ever that easy, though.

When he looks up, another illusion appears. This time it’s Elijah.

“And now a poor, innocent boy is without a mother. How do you justify that, _hero?”_ Mysterio challenges, standing next to the child, as he fires a laser. Peter jumps out of the laser’s path, a red-hot line being drawn in his previous place. _You can do this._ He shoots a Taser Web through the Elijah illusion.

Mysterio hadn't expected the hero to be so willing to attack the illusion of a kid, so he isn't able to dodge the abrupt, electrically charged webbing. The webbing sends jolts of electricity to both Mysterio and his suit.

“You should really try something besides the whole ‘guilt-trip-my-enemy-into-submission’ thing.’” Peter critiques as all the illusions flicker away.

“Are you really that heartless to not feel weighed down by the loss of a life?” Mysterio seethes.

“No. The exact opposite, actually. I'm going to carry that guilt with me for the rest of my life. But I'm not about to let it get in the way of stopping someone like you.” Peter then releases his web and runs towards Mysterio to shatter the glass helmet with a punch. He draws back his fist and slams it into the dome, hoping to hear the glass shatter. Instead, his knuckles crack. _“Shit!”_ Peter gasps and leaps back, shaking out his hand.

“You have overextended your extensor digitorum communis tendons,” Karen informs. Peter dodges Mysterio’s kick in retaliation by sticking to the ceiling.

“That’s real helpful, Karen! Do me a favor and keep my injuries to yourself, please. And I told you I couldn't do it, MJ! Jeez, that hurt!” he complains as he crawls to the gap made by Mysterio’s descent.

“Mind over matter,” MJ repeats without remorse. “You lifted tons of concrete, you can break plexiglass. Simple.”

“Easy for you to say!” The closer Peter gets to the edge of the room, Mysterio uses his boots to jump up and almost manages to grab Peter. “Woah! Okay, up we go!” Peter exclaims before crawling outside of the building and swinging towards some open area. Where would there be open area in New York, you might ask? Well, it’s also a place that puts Peter at a disadvantage for swinging; Central Park in the middle of a work day. There's a distinct lack of anything to swing from, but it keeps them from destroying buildings or hurting bystanders during their fight.

After a few swings, Peter hears a blast and looks up to see Mysterio leaping from the tops of building with the aid of his springed boots.

“You won't ignore me! I'm the star of the show!” the villain yells.

“Egocentric much?” Peter antagonizes, then lowers his voice to talk to Ned and MJ. “How am I supposed to beat this guy when he cuts through my webs with lasers and I can't break through his helmet?”

“You can,” MJ says simply.

“At least you don't have to fight his giant ego,” Ned comforts as best as he can. Peter perks up slightly and mumbles,

“Maybe I _can…”_

“What?” Ned asks in confusion, not quite following. Peter quickly speedreads through all the information MJ sent to his suit.

“Quentin’s whole schtick is that he became a bad guy because wanted more attention and fame, right?”

“Uh huh,” MJ confirms, humoring him.

“So what if we-” Peter is suddenly knocked out of the air mid-swing. He tries to recover by shooting a web, but it doesn't attach to anything. _There’s no buildings,_ he reminds himself. Instead, he hits the grass-covered ground with a hard thud and leaves behind trench as he tumbles, until his back collides with a tree trunk.

“Peter? Peter, what happened?! Are you okay?!” Ned questions, his words going a million miles per minute.

“Peter has sustained-” Karen starts, but Peter cuts her off.

“Nothing,” he wheezes and slowly gets up to see Mysterio getting nearer. He coughs as his lungs burn and his back aches. “Karen, what did I say about reading off my injuries as I'm fighting a bad guy?”

“To not,” Karen recounts, maintaining her seemingly infinite patience.

“Exactly. It throws off my groove,” Peter rolls his shoulders before putting his plan into motion. “This has been fun ‘n all, but I’ve kinda got places to be so can we wrap this up? All you're doing is wasting my time,” Peter banters. “I'm sure you have somewhere to be too. Oh wait, you don't, do you?” he says smugly. Mysterio instantly halts his advances.

“Your plan is to make him even more angry?!” Ned questions, no doubt already panicking. “He’s going to kill you!”

“What did you just say?” Mysterio demands, clenching his fists.

“I just mean that you must have a lot of time on your hands for this supervillain thing. Y’know, since you sucked at your job and got yourself fired,” Peter continues and hopes the antagonizing works.

“The Great Mysterio fails at nothing! All those who doubted me will bow before my powers and cower in fear!” _Typical villain speech,_ Peter notes as Mysterio raises his arms.

“You sure?” Peter crosses his arms against his chest. “I don't think some fancy smoke and a costume is gonna change their minds. Did you screw a fishbowl on your head because they said you didn't look good enough to become an actor?” Mysterio’s fists shake in rage.

“I have _talent!”_ he shouts in retaliation.

“Then you should've stuck to your mediocre job as a special effects guy. At least you were making money then instead of parading in a circus outfit.” _I hope this works,_ Peter thinks hopefully.

“I was getting nowhere! You're just like all the others! I’ll be famous and everyone will know the name Mysterio, the sorcerer hero who _crushed_ Spider-Man!”  Mysterio yells and uses his magnetic coiled boots to leap closer as more gas pours from the various nozzles. _Why are bad guys always insane with skewed morals? At least they keep things interesting._

“Damn, Mysterio! Back at it again with the hallucinogenic gas? Alright then, Plan B!” Peter says, partly to himself but also to relieve some nerves. He flips out of the path of destruction and lands on Mysterio’s cape-covered back. “Dude, you need to relax. Have you ever tried electroshock therapy?” Peter banters before shooting a Taser Web right in between Mysterio’s two air tanks.

“Get off you pesky-” With the electric current from the Taser Web and added pressure, the tanks burst. Peter is sent flying and just manages to catch himself before faceplanting.

“Ha! Can't use your handy gas without an air supply!” Peter continues to provoke.

“You're nothing but an annoying brat hiding behind a mask!” Mysterio insults as he rushes Peter, throwing punches. Peter’s Spidey Sense effortlessly warns him of the incoming attacks and he dodges every single one.

“Oh yeah? Well, uh, you're as observant as an Amazon river dolphin!” When the joke doesn't seem to land, he catches another one of Mysterio’s punches and adds, “…Y’know, ‘cause they're basically blind.”

“Humor won't get you out of this,” Mysterio says, his tone full of his usual dramatization.

“Are you sure?” Peter asks as he webs Mysterio and proceeds to fling him into a nearby tree.

Mysterio causes a dent in the tree and leaves fall due to the harsh collision. Peter uses the opportunity to start webbing Mysterio to the tree with Web Grenades, but his hope dissipates when Mysterio’s laser easily cuts through it. _Next goal, rip the lasers off his shoulders,_ Peter mentally notes. Mysterio breaks free and uses the strength of his boots to kick out the middle of the tree, sending chunks and splinters of wood flying at Peter.

Peter webs a nearby park bench and gives it a hard pull so that it passes in front of him to take the damage of the blast. There’s no way he's going to be pulling splinters out of his suit for the next week. Then his Spidey Sense goes off and he catches a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. He quickly arches his back and tips his head out of the way as Mysterio’s fist flies in front of his face. He takes a few fast breaths then grips the gauntlet on Mysterio’s hand.

“Your heart rate appears to be elevated,” Karen’s voice calmly points out.

“Yeah. Thanks. Never woulda guessed,” Peter forces out as he pushes the fist back. He keeps his stance wide and stable to prevent himself from losing his balance, just like MJ taught him. He kicks in the back of Mysterio’s knee, which drives it into the ground. With Mysterio on one knee, Peter again attempts to punch through the plexiglass helmet. Peter breathes out as he slams his heel into the helmet with all his strength, but to no avail. Now all he has to show for it is a throbbing heel. “Guys, it’s not working! I, I can't just punch or, or kick through it!” Peter is starting to panic and he can feel the self-doubt causing his hands to shake. Mysterio quickly gathers his bearings and punches Peter twice, the first in the face with his right hand and the second in the gut with his left. The air is forced from Peter’s lungs.

“Get out of your head and _believe_ you can do it, Parker. Don't let him push you around,” MJ encourages with a slight edge to her voice.

 _Strong. Just stay strong,_ Peter reminds himself. His Spidey-Sense erupts at the base of his neck before another fist appears. He easily dodges it, which he counts as a small victory. Without much time for him to recover, he stumbles into a sudden kick to his chest. Another punch slams into his back, almost packing enough force to knock the wind out of him again. He’s knocked to the ground, but is back on his feet before Ned or MJ can say anything. _Why is he getting the upper hand all of a sudden?! Maybe making fun of him wasn't the smartest move, but it did make him sloppy._

He quickly recovers and whips around to grasp Mysterio’s fist, bending the metal underneath his strong grip. He uses his free hand to bind Mysterio’s hands with a web, then reaches up to the mounted lasers and crushes them to pieces underneath his grip. At least that takes care of that, but it only adds to Mysterio’s rage. Mysterio uses his bound hands as a club and rockets it down on Peter’s shoulder. Peter gasps and holds back a shocked cry as he’s forced down to his knees.

“A fracture has been detected,” Karen informs worriedly. _Fantastic_. “Tony Stark is calling and needs to speak with you.”

“I don't need backup, Karen,” Peter immediately insists before another blow collides with his cheek. It sends him the rest of the way to the ground and he heard the mechanical adjustment of his lenses as he blinks. He breathes through clenched teeth as his surroundings spin.

“He just wants to talk. No backup, only encouragement,” Karen urges.

“Sure, that’d be helpful,” Peter says sarcastically and tries to keep his voice from wavering. He can feel the sweat under the mask of his suit, but tries to focus all of his strength on forcing Mysterio’s hand back. Suddenly, Peter’s Spidey Sense causes a wave of chills before there's a force driving his knee into the ground with a crunch and another force slamming itself into his already fractured shoulder.

“So long, Spider-Man. Sorry you didn't go down in a blaze of glory, but instead as a second-rate hero who couldn't take a punch,” Mysterio feigns sadness, chuckling deeply.

“Something tells me you aren't too sorry,” Peter quips, rolling to his hands and knees with a pained groan. Everything hurts.

“C’mon, kid. Use that brain of yours.” Peter instantly reacts to Tony’s sudden voice, his eyes widening.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter moves to the side to dodge Mysterio’s daunting boot, then gets back to his shakey feet.

“The one and only. Use that dipshit’s anger against him and quit doubting yourself already,” Tony orders, giving him a quick dose of tough love to get him going again. Peter takes his chance to web Mysterio in close range and shoots a Web Grenade, encasing Mysterio’s torso. He then jumps up and kicks Mysterio so far back that he stumbles into a fountain with a splash.

“But, but it takes over eight _tons_ of pressure to break through plexiglass,” Peter counters nervously. He hops slightly, taking the wait off his injured knee.

“You lifted well over twenty tons of warehouse off of you, this should be a piece of cake for Spidey,” Tony fires right back. He makes a good point, and Peter lets it sink in as Mysterio stomps out of the fountain even more enraged than before. _If I could do this before, I could do it again. Push through the pain. Believe in yourself. Don't hold yourself back._ Peter takes a deep breath.

“I can do this,” he finally agrees with a nod.

“Damn right,” Tony confirms, a proud smile on his lips. “I'm rootin’ for ya, kid.” Peter nods to himself again and readies his web-shooters. “Oh, and Pete?” Tony interjects one last time.

“Yeah?”

“Give ‘em hell.” Peter chuckles, then smirks in determination.

“Coming back for more, Dome Head?” he challenges with newfound confidence.

“I should be asking you that!” Mysterio roars, ignoring the webbing around his chest as he charges Peter. He tries to punch Peter, who simply ducks.“Why won't you quit?!”

“That’s funny coming from you! You're the one who’s the quitter.” Peter moves out of the way of Mysterio’s flying kick and webs the villain’s legs together with a series of Splitter Webs from each wrist. “You quit your job in special effects, quit being an actor, all for what? Because someone told you that you wouldn't make it?” Mysterio tries to pull his legs apart, but without his abrasive or lasers, it’s useless. “Your first mistake was believing that they defined your self-worth.” Mysterio still tries to punch, but Peter grabs his fist mid-air and binds them with webbing as well. “They didn't let you down. You let yourself down.”

With that, Peter shoots a web at the fountain and uses it as a focal point to swing around it horizontally and gain velocity. When he swings back around, he lets go of the webbing and rockets towards Mysterio’s plexiglass helmet with a leg extended in front of him.

“Please work!” he begs, then his foot makes contact.

As soon as his heel hits, the glass cracks outwards, then shatters to pieces.

Mysterio is pushed back from the force of Peter’s kick and crashes onto his back. When Peter lands on his feet, he can see the black hair, blue eyes, and grimace of Quentin Beck as he comes back to reality. Peter doesn't waste another second before tiredly shooting a Web Grenade from each wrist to keep him pinned to the ground. Just in case.

“You freaking did it!” Ned suddenly shrieks. “Oh my god, that was so epic! You did the whole _thwip_ thing and, and then defied _gravity_ to kick him in the _face!_ That was awesome!” he excitedly rambles.

“Thanks, man. Couldn't have done it without you guys. Good job, team.” Peter chuckles breathlessly, staring down at the dazed Quentin Beck.

“Told you so,” MJ casually points out as if it’s no big deal.

“Yeah, you did,” Peter confirms with a wide smile.

“I'm proud of you,” Tony interjects, causing Peter to smile wider. Peter can hear sirens in the distance slowly approaching.

“I appreciate it, Mr. Stark. I hope you don't mind taking care of a few damaged Jumbotrons and destroyed building walls,” he laughs nervously.

“Nothing a few checks can't fix,” Tony nonchalantly waves off. “But I do have someone else here who’s ready to kill me to get to you.” Peter is about to ask who when May’s voice comes through the other end.

“Peter! Peter, are you alright? How’s your shoulder? Do you need me to come down there and whoop his ass?! If he hurt you I swear to-”

“May! I swear, I'm okay. Just a few bumps, I promise,” Peter reassures. He wonders how long she has been watching the fight along with Tony.

“Don't you dare ever, ever not answer my call again, do you hear me?” she questions, her voice wobbling. “I was scared to death. You get to pay for my therapy, got it?” she still manages to joke. Peter laughs in relief.

“You got it, May. Anything,” he promises. Once he sees the red and blue lights from the police cars and the police officers rushing towards him and Mysterio, he starts to leave.

“I'm so damn proud of you, no matter how much you scare me sometimes,” May adds as Peter limps through the trees to leave Central Park.

“I know. I'm proud of you too.” He is proud of her, every day. He’s grateful that he has such an amazing support system. No matter what they go through, they’ll always be there for each other, and that’s what he loves about their family.

“Head to the Tower,” Tony insists. “May and I are already here and I’ll have you checked out in the Medbay.”

“You got it.” For once, Peter doesn't disagree. He’s aching from head to toe.

“And I’ll send Happy to get Ned and MJ,” Tony relays. Indecipherable, excited ramblings start on the other end, most likely from Ned.

“Sweet,” is all MJ says.

“Sounds good,” Peter confirms as he exits Central Park and starts swinging towards the Tower, the sun shining over the now safe city. For the time being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY GOSH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT  
> THE FINAL BATTLE IS COMPLETE  
> I hope it met your expectations because man was it an absolute blast to write <3  
> Next week, we wrap it all up!!
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


	35. The End is Where You Start From

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy final Saturday everyone!! I have such a mix of emotions about ending this story after these spectacular months, but I think what stands out the most is how grateful I am that you were all here on this adventure with me :) I'll save the more in depth stuff for the end notes, however I just wanted to say thank you to every single one of you. Whether you commented, gave kudos, or simply read and enjoyed the story, I'm happy that you were here to experience it!! I feel so lucky to have such a phenomenal audience, so thank you so much❤️💙
> 
> TW// FOR ABSOLUTE LOVE AND SUPPORT AND THE FLUFFIEST OF FLUFFS THIS CHAPTER!!!💖💕 i wouldn't end this fic on an angsty note :) I'll just save that for the sequel 😇

“Are you sure you want to be up and about right after that fight?” May asks her resilient nephew through his door as he gets ready to go to Stark Tower. Tony invited them, along with Ned and MJ, to spend Saturday at the Tower together. Peter immediately said yes and has been jittery with excitement ever since. He throws on one of his Midtown High sweatshirts and hurriedly stuffs his Spider-Man suit into his backpack, just in case. He steps out of his room to see May just outside it.

“Very sure. I've recovered from way worse, like the whole Toomes thing. You should've seen me after the warehouse." It's been getting easier and easier to talk about Homecoming night. He considers it progress. "Plus It’s gonna be great with all of us at the penthouse! Mr. Stark says it’s gonna be, like, a celebration for beating Mysterio, or something.” Peter shrugs his shoulders before putting his backpack on all the way.

“Alright, just don't push yourself, okay? You’re shoulder and knee are still healing,” May reminds him with barely hidden concern.

“Don't worry, I was on the outside of a plane when it crashed, remember? If I can survive _that_ with just a few bumps, I can handle sore shoulder,” Peter answers honestly. May raises her eyebrows and crosses her arms.

“That's supposed to make me feel _better?”_ she questions as Peter laughs mischieviously. “Be careful or I might have to ground you from your field trip.” May swats his back and pushes her nephew towards the front of the apartment.

“You would never!” Peter teases back, but walks towards the door anyways. As May grabs her purse and jacket, Peter’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out to see a text from Tony. He’ll never get used to seeing a genius like Tony Stark’s name pop up on his screen.

 

**_Mr. Iron Man_ **

Tony: _Still on for today?_

Peter: _of course! we’re on our way rn_

Tony: _Good_

Tony: _Am I not good enough for you to type out the words “right now?”_

Peter: _you better watch out mr. stark_

Peter: _your ego is showing again_

Tony: _Never mind, just stay home. I’ll hang out with Ned and MJ instead. At least they're respectful_

Peter: _hey! you said their real names!_

Peter: _and you say that like MJ didnt call you stupid the first time she met you_

 

    Peter bounds towards the stairs as he texts and May locks their apartment door before following.

 

**_Mr. Iron Man_ **

Tony: _Technicalities. No party poopers allowed, which means no Peter Parkers who insult my self confidence_

Peter: ᵇᵘᵗ

Peter: ᵐʳ. ˢᵗᵃʳᵏ

Peter: ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿᵗ ᵈᵒ ᶦᵗ ʷᶦᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵐᵉ

Peter: ᵃⁿᵈ ᶦᵐ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵉˣᶜᶦᵗᵉᵈ

Tony: _What in the fresh hell kind of typing is that_

Peter: _its a tiny font generator!_

Peter: _you go to_ [ _https://lingojam.com/tinytextgenerator_ ](https://lingojam.com/tinytextgenerator) _and then you just copy n paste!_

Peter: ˢᵉᵉ ᵐʳ. ˢᵗᵃʳᵏ

Tony: _You’re a weird kid_

Tony: _Do you need Happy to pick you guys up? He’s already on the way to pick up your friends_

Peter: _nah we’re good, we just got in the car and we’re on our way_

Peter: _see you soon mr. stark!_

Tony: _Take care of yourself and your aunt, kid_

 

The ride to the Tower doesn't go as fast it would have Peter had just swung, but he enjoys the extra time he gets to spend with May. With life being crazy between her job, school, and his patrols, they don't spend as much time together as they would like.

“So, Tony just wants ‘celebrate?’ Nothing Spider-Man related?” May asks skeptically.

“I'm pretty sure. Why? Is your Aunt Sense going off?” Peter smiles, causing May to playfully roll her eyes.

“And what if it is?” she challenges.

“Then I’d have to ask you when you were hanging out with a radioactive spider,” Peter jokes, giving her a look as she drives.

“Hey, you don't know the crazy things I did in my college years.” May flashes Peter a sly smile.

“I don't want to know _anything_ you did back in college.” Peter makes a grossed out face, causing May to laugh.

When they get to the Tower, May is reluctant to park out in front but listens to Peter’s directions anyways. Peter leads the way to the elevator and they both head up to the penthouse.

“Good morning, May and Peter. How are you doing today?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. greets in a pretty normal tone. Peter silently hopes that Tony didn't reprogram her.

“Good! Is Mr. Stark up in the penthouse?” Peter asks curiously.

“He is, along with Rhodey and Pepper,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirms. The elevator opens to show the three preparing what seems to be a lunch. Well, Pepper and Rhodey look to be preparing it while Tony is eating a sandwich. Peter is about to greet them, when he gets the idea to actually check if  F.R.I.D.A.Y. still remembers some references…

“Mr. Stark!” Peter shouts as he runs up to the three adults. Tony startles at Peter’s sudden shout, almost dropping his sandwich. Pepper and Rhodey both turn to Peter, their eyes wide with surprise.

“Jesus, kid!” Tony catches his breath.

“Stop!” F.R.I.D.A.Y. exclaims, making Tony jump again. “Boss could’ve dropped his croissant!” And there is Peter’s answer. F.R.I.D.A.Y. most definitely hasn't been reprogrammed.

“It’s a sandwich,” Tony counters as he stares up in disbelief. Peter dramatically gestures to his mentor’s dress shoes.

“What are those?!” Peter questions loudly, earning chuckling from Pepper and an outright laugh from Rhodey.

“They're his _crocs,”_ F.R.I.D.A.Y. plays along, making Peter crack up with laughter. Of course, Tony is at a loss for words. Peter can hear May’s laughing behind him and sees Pepper cover her mouth to hide her smile.

“They're Louis Vuitton. Why? Do you want a pair?” Tony asks with a raised eyebrow, preemptively pulling out his phone. Peter chuckles and stands up straight.

“No, Mr. Stark. It’s just a Vine reference,” he assures. Tony looks up at him like a deer caught in headlights and stops taking out his credit card

“Oh.” He quickly puts his card away.

“Really, Tones? That quick to get him a pair of designer shoes, huh?” Rhodey questions with a smile and crosses his arms.

“What can I say? I'm a giver,” Tony says proudly as he extends his arms. “We do have something for you, though. But we’ll wait ‘til your friends get here.” He clasps his hands together.

“You do?” Peter tilts his head in mild curiosity.

“Tony…” May warns, “you know how I feel about you buying things for us.” Tony quickly waves her off.

“Yeah, well, it’s not everyday Peter beats a circus freak. Besides, Peter already knows what it is.” Tony shoots Peter a smirk.

“I do?!” Peter asks incredulously. He’s so far past confused at this point. Tony simply nods.

“Don't tell me you actually got him _that,”_ Rhodey poorly clarifies with a chuckle.

“We did make a promise,” Pepper speaks up, offering Peter a smile. Peter just looks between the three adults in confusion. Before he can ask anything, a voice sounds from the elevators.

“Woah! You’re Colonel Rhodes!” Ned yells in excitement, rushing over to join the large group. He stares at Rhodey with wide, awestruck eyes. “It’s so nice to meet you, Sir!”

“Good to meet you, too.” Rhodey pats Ned’s shoulder, who just about passes out. May and Pepper chat with each other as Ned geeks out over Rhodey.

“‘Sup, Loser,” MJ greets Peter. She punches his arm and leans her elbow on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, Mr. Stark, what’s up?” Peter redirects the question with a smirk. Tony raises his eyebrows.

“Are you sassing me? Don't sass me,” he jokingly threatens. “I have a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, y'know.” Peter scoffs with a smile.

“Well, MJ said people in Hollywood are di-” He cuts himself off when he sees Tony’s narrowed eyes. Peter clears his throat. “…Jerks,” he quickly corrects instead, clearing his throat. Tony nods in approval and MJ pats his shoulder.

“Nice save,” she commends casually.

“Peter!” Ned suddenly calls and runs over to them. “I am the Sand Guardian! Guardian of the Sand!” Peter has no idea where the off topic Vine came from, but he continues the reference nonetheless by gesturing to Ned.

“Poseidon quivers before him!” he shouts. Tony blinks then says,

“What in the-”

 _“Expletive_ off!” F.R.I.D.A.Y. expertly finishes the Vine. The three teens burst out laughing, leaving Tony only mildly annoyed but very confused.

“See, that’s what we’re not going to do. We aren't going to waste the day away with shitty video references,” Tony scolds. A few seconds later, he casually adds, “Besides, I could just take the gift back… I won't hesitate, bitch.” Ned and Peter whip around to stare at Tony with gigantic, disbelieving eyes.

“You…” Ned starts.

“Just referenced a Vine,” Peter finishes in shock. Tony snorts as if it’s obvious and asks,

“Am I _hip_ yet?” All of Peter’s previous feelings of being proud of Tony dissipate with that one word.

“And somehow you went from being cool to uncool in a matter of seconds,” Peter sighs as he shakes his head. MJ, on the other hand, encourages Tony.

“Nailed it.” She offers Tony a fistbump, which he proudly returns. “So what’s the plan for today, anyways?” Tony smirks and turns towards Pepper and May, who are engaging in a more calm conversation.

“Pep,” Tony catches her attention, “gift time.” Pepper’s smile widens and she nods.

“I’ll help you,” May offers sweetly before they both leave the room.

“Should I be worried or…?” Peter prompts skeptically.

“Relax, kid. Be excited, or something,” Tony reassures with a knowing look. Somehow, that only worries Peter more.

“I'd be worried if I were in your shoes, too,” Rhodey affirms, earning him an eye roll from Tony. When Pepper and May return, they're wheeling in a wrapped box almost as tall as Peter. Honestly, Peter hadn't expected something so big.

“Are, are you sure about this, Mr. Stark?” Peter makes sure as he stares at the large box.

“Yep,” Tony assures again. “It wasn't my idea, it was yours.” This only confuses Peter more, but he starts to unwrap it anyways. He eagerly tears through the paper until he starts to see wording printed on the side. His eyes slowly widen.

“A segway?!” He looks up at Tony for confirmation. When Tony nods with a slight smile, Peter looks back at his friends. Ned’s eyes are just as big as Peter’s and MJ actually looks impressed.

“You spoil him,” Pepper whispers fondly to Tony, who doesn't argue and just shrugs.

“I can't believe you actually got me a segway! Thank you so much, Mr. Stark!” Peter rushes over to give Tony a quick, tight hug, then helps Ned get to work on unboxing the exciting new machine.

“Hey, we made a deal, right? I'm just holding up my end,” Tony explains nonchalantly, still recovering from the fact that Peter just hugged him.

“Do I get to bring it home?!” Peter practically begs with a bright grin.

“No,” May and Tony decline simultaneously. Peter saw that coming, but you don't know until you try!

“It stays here, but it’s yours. You can take it out for a spin, if you want,” Tony offers and Peter immediately nods. Peter’s smile only grows before he's hugging Tony again, this time letting it last longer so Tony can process it. Tony just stands there for a moment, but he isn't as hesitant anymore. A few weeks ago he would've paled at the mere _thought_ of hugging Peter, but things have changed. For the better. And he couldn't be happier. He securely wraps his arms around Peter to return the hug and just breathes in the moment. It’s a perfect moment that neither of them want to end.

"I'm proud of you, Peter," Tony mumbles genuinely into Peter's hair. He's watched the kid overcome so much in such a short period of time. Peter never ceases to amaze him.

"I'm proud of you too, Mr. Stark," Peter reciprocates. When Tony pulls back to give him a confused look, Peter just smiles more. Whether Tony believes it or not, he has come a long way too. He has grown and changed for the better. The whole ordeal has turned into a learning experience.

For some reason, Tony’s instincts take over and he places a gentle kiss on the top of Peter’s head, then tightens the hug. Peter could cry of happiness, closing his eyes to relish in the moment of bliss.

Then, his phone goes off. It buzzes in time with both Ned and MJ’s. Tony loosens his hold and Peter pulls out his phone to read a new alert from the police scanner app.

“Robbery in progress at the Metropolitan Commercial Bank on Park Avenue,” MJ informs aloud. Ned narrows his eyes at her in confusion as Peter already starts pulling his suit out of his backpack.

“You got the app, too?” Ned questions curiously.

“I've had it since I got the phone. Can never be too prepared,” MJ points out as she gives a noncommittal shrug. “Come on, Team Spidey has work to do.” Ned’s eyes seem to sparkle at her using his naming system.

“I’ll change real fast in the guest room and swing out the window!” Peter lets his team know. “You two find a computer! Love you, May! Thanks, Mr. Stark! Good to see you, Pepper and Colonel Rhodes!” With that, he sprints to the guest room.

“Stay safe! Love you too!” May calls back.

“Be careful!” Tony warns, rubbing his forehead in stress.

It’s never a dull moment when you're a superhero, but Peter wouldn't trade it for the world. His trauma won't disappear overnight and some experiences will continue to stay with him for the rest of his life, but he won't ever let any of it hold him back from making a difference in the world. He has that power, and he's not going to let it go to waste.

He has a responsibility to be Spider-Man for those who need him, so that’s what he’s going to keep doing. Protect those who can't protect themselves. And he doesn't have to do it alone anymore.

Peter jumps out of the window, feeling the warmth of the sun and the rush of wind against his suit.

“Good to see you again, Peter,” Karen happily greets.

“Your Guy in the Chair, checking in!” Ned announces proudly.

“Everything’s ready to go,” MJ relays, too.

That’s all Peter needs; his friends and his family. And he wouldn't have it any other way. He smiles, the weight of the world feeling just a bit more bearable.

“Let’s go get ‘em, team.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow wow wow, I can't believe it's over after almost four months of updating. This has been one of the most incredible experiences of my life, and it's because of you wonderful readers and commenters.
> 
> I started writing this story almost exactly a year ago, on July 19th, 2018 and finished it on March 20th of this year. Just writing was a fun experience in itself, but ironically I hadn't planned to post it at all. It was more so for me to get out some of my creative energy and was originally planned to be TWELVE CHAPTERS. You can see how well that turned out!
> 
> When I finished I thought hey, why not post it so other people can read it? Initially I was apprehensive because I had never published any of my writing before, but I didn't really have anything to lose. What really convinced me was the thought of other people enjoying reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It seems to have been the right choice :) Everyone has been so supportive and sweet, I wouldn't change any it for the world!! You're all the best audience I could have asked for and I truly mean it when I say I appreciate every single one of you.
> 
> A lot of people seem to be sad that this story is ending, and I'm right there with ya, so here's some of the fics I have planned!!  
> -In between my main fics, I'll be dropping a one shot sometime next week! I feel like anything I say about it will give it away, so just know that it's heartbreaking angst as usual :)  
> -Spidey Tot: My next main, multi-chap fanfic! It's a Kid!Peter fic with 4 year old Peter that takes place pre-Iron Man. Don't worry, it'll have its fair share of angst and fluff too. It'll update every Friday, starting NEXT FRIDAY!  
> -Another Irondad one shot, this one about Peter coming face-to-face with a Stark Industries weapon.
> 
> As for the possible sequel to this fic, which you're probably more interested in haha, it will take a while to be put out BUT it is being worked on!! I currently have three chapters written and a basic plotline. I'll keep it pretty vague so that I don't give anything away, but it'll continue the same storyline as this story regardless of FFH. Funnily enough, there's already a parallel that I wrote in the plot months before FFH came out. Take that with what you will ;)
> 
> This may be the end of this fic, but it isn't the end of this account!! As you can see, I have much more planned. As always, thank you for everything and I hope to see you all in the future. Have fun and stay safe out there ❤🧡💛💚💙💜
> 
> If you'd like to keep up to date on upcoming fics and get sneak peeks, feel free to follow one of my accounts!  
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to finally post my first fanfic! I've been writing for years, but haven't ever released it for other people to read. Hopefully it's fun to read! I'm always open to tips. Thank you for taking the time to read! Let me know what you think :) Buckle up and enjoy the ride, it's gonna be a long one!
> 
> -Kevy


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